Mother Figure
by Aoi Rakuen
Summary: YGO AU FIC. What if you're paid to be the mother of a billionaire's son? But what if you're a MAN? Yami goes through this lifechanging situation when he strikes a deal with CEO Seto Kaiba. Read and Review! XD CHAP 12 UP!
1. Birthday Gift NEW

**Mother Figure by Aoi Rakuen **

Hello, everyone! I'm new around here in and I decided to share my love to every Seto/Yami fan in this thriving virtual community :huggles everyone:

This is my first fanfic in so do tell me what you think of it!

Yu-Gi-Oh is a legal property of Kazuki Takahashi, and other big names. It's not mine. Don't sue me.

Some words of caution, though: If you're a yaoi-hater and not so keen on Prideshipping, this story isn't for you. I am an S/YY fan all the way, and personally, they're a pairing that makes a whole lot of sense when you read anything on the series and manga, wrath of the gods be damned.

**SUMMARY**: YGO AU FIC. What if you're paid to be the mother of a billionaire's son? But what if you're a MAN? Yami goes through this life-changing situation when he strikes a deal with CEO Seto Kaiba. Read and Review! XD

**.o0o.**

**Chapter One – Birthday Gift **

I'm flat broke.

Here I am, staring lifelessly at the television in front of me, a remote controller on one hand, and an almost-crumpled classified ad on another. I've been scouring and perusing both mediums for an opportunity to seize that might salvage me from the mess I'm in right now.

Things are not looking up. Several résumés and interviews have come and gone, and I STILL DO NOT have a job. Why OH WHY do diplomas exist in this world, anyway? How could a rectangle piece of paper determine the course of your future? Why?

So what if I had to stop school? Well, there isn't much of a choice. Aside from me wanting to, Grandpa's having problems of his own as well. This resulted to the premature closing of the Game Shop, which was the primary source of the family's income. Mom and Dad were goners, so our old man had to watch over us. Poor Grandpa; he's still working when he should be enjoying his retirement.

"Onii-chan, dinner's ready," came my little brother's voice. If there were something that I want more than anything to happen, it would have to be to secure Yugi's future and happiness. That's why I'm trying my best to work my ass off to keep him in school. I don't think I want to see him end up like me.

Haven't I told you that things are not looking up? Blame me for being an idealistic prick full of wistful and idiotic dreams. You see, I wanted to have my own band and be known the world over. So together with my buddies, Joey, Tristan, and Bakura, we decided to break all hell loose. Being the stupid gits that we all are, we splurged and spent all our savings on buying band equipment and transforming Tristan's garage into our headquarters.

If the band were to make it, I would've been in the Bahamas right now, nibbling on some expensive pie while being phoned by my manager, telling me about the band's latest jaunt to Amsterdam scheduled for next week.

Instead I'm still stuck in Domino, nibbling my fingernails, wondering how the hell am I supposed to pay this month's bills.

"In other news, young business tycoon Seto Kaiba closed a multi-million dollar deal with president and CEO of Devlin Industries Incorporated, Duke Devlin this afternoon. The – " I turned the goddamn machine off. Great. Somewhere in this part of the city, someone was a couple of millions richer while I'm in desperate need of a big chunk of it.

Life's not fair.

I wonder how it would feel like being Seto Kaiba in all his resplendent glory – from being surrounded with all material riches and a career everyone is dying to attain…Arrgh. Life's just not fair; it sucks too. Big time.

**.o0o.**

(A/N: Oh yeah, in this AU fic, Mokuba Kaiba is Seto's son. It's kind of odd if I invented a character, so the little one would be okay enough. I hope.)

"Happy Birthday, happy birthday… Happy Birthday to you!" kids all around the vast garden joyously sang, watching as the little boy with messy black hair closed his eyes for a moment before finally blowing the flame off the five candles perched on top of the big birthday cake. A hearty applause greeted him, melding with the light ensemble of musical instruments a band was playing for the party.

"Happy tenth birthday, Mokuba!" A clown beckoned the little child to come to him, while patting a large box beside him. "Your daddy's got a present for you!"

Mokuba's blue-gray eyes shone with feeling as he looked to where his father stood. Seeing him smile and nod, he leapt down from the stage and ran to where the gift box stood.

"Go on, Mokie, open your gift!" The clown tapped the box twice. ' That's my cue,' Yami said in his thoughts as he readied himself for the kid's birthday surprise. Exactly why he was here posing as a clown, he could not fathom. Joey had dragged him into this, boasting a big pay-off if they did their job right. Yami had little to complain; it was boring being a bum in the house, plus he really needed the money and he was willing to take on any job at the moment. Beggars can't be choosers, after all.

Mokuba pried off the lid as soon as he'd finished untying the bright red ribbon. A shower of confetti rained down on him as he watched a clown emerging from the box's depth.

"Happy Birthday to you, Mokuba!" Yami tried his best to act the part of a clown – cheery and pretty much stupid. He wasn't having any problem on the 'stupid' part, but somehow, he couldn't pull off the 'cheery' part. Probably because he was envious of the child's state – so young and yet he had so much. Both his little brother and the young Kaiba were just kids, but he could see the stark contrast between the two children. Yami handed a box to the boy; the latter's eager hands taking it out of his grip.

Yami pushed himself out of the box just as Pandora the Magician waltzed in for another round of magic tricks for the enthusiastic audience.

Two hours later, the last of the guests had finally bid their farewell to the host and the celebrant, leaving the party troop and some servants to tend to the after-party trash.

Yami sat down on a party chair, exhausted, as he lifted the bulbous wig of thick orange curls off his head. Grabbing a towel to wipe the accumulating sweat on his forehead, he shook his long hair, now limp and hanging forlornly on his shoulders, and gave a long sigh. "Damn, it's like hell with that tacky wig on," he said as he watched Joey discard his wig at a nearby box.

"Tell me 'bout it," his blond-haired friend expressed his assent. He sat down beside Yami, a box of tissues in tow, tossing a handful at Yami. "There. Clean your face first. This pudgy make-up's the stuff of nightmares."

"Thanks," grunted Yami. He poured a couple drops of water on it, watching the liquid spread on the now-soggy tissue. Little by little, clumps of organic paste clung away to his face, bringing relief to him. At the very least the party's over.

"I'd sure like to take a dip in that pool," remarked Joey longingly as he stared at the vast blue of the swimming pool. He fell silent for a moment.

"Something wrong?" Yami asked, looking at his friend, and found out that he was staring beyond the pool.

"There's someone over there."

"Is that Mokuba?" Yami squinted to get a better look. It was the young Kaiba hidden amongst the bushes just outside the large oak doors.

"What's wrong with that kid?" Joey scratched his head, puzzled. He stopped, as he saw Yami stand up and walk to the little boy.

Upon closer inspection, he could plainly see that Mokuba was crying.

Yami's eyebrows knitted in concern. How could a kid on his fifth birthday be so sad and upset? He inched closer rather apprehensively before kneeling beside the child.

"Hey, what's wrong? Didn't you like the party?" the older one asked in a soothing voice as he proceeded to pat the kid's head.

Mokuba, not looking up to see who was comforting him, continued to sob silently. "I don't think my birthday wish came true," he sniffed sadly.

"Your birthday wish?" echoed Yami. He reached for his back pockets and pulled out his handkerchief. He nudged the boy a bit and offered him the piece of cloth.

The young Kaiba sighed and took the hanky from the birthday clown. "Thanks," he blurted out, looking up to the kind stranger for the first time.

**.o0o.**

Seto strode the length of the vast hallway of the mansion in search of his son. Clearly, the boy was in distraught and was undoubtedly upset. For more than five years, little Mokuba wasn't able to wean himself away from the past.

"Have you seen Mokuba?" he asked a servant who happened to be passing by.

"He went outside, sir."

Seto's shoes echoed loudly against the lavish marble floor. Running down the polished oaken staircase, he came to a complete stop as he reached the front doors. Pulling it open, his eyes landed on the garden, and finally found his son.

"Mokuba…"

**.o0o.**

'Mommy?'

"Mommy, it is you! Where have you been all this time?" Mokuba's eyes crinkled with inexpressible happiness, as tears continued to pour out from it. He burrowed deep into his mother's embrace, feeling the oh-so-familiar warmth.

"What's going on here?" A voice rang like a knife cutting the stunned silence. Yami looked to where the voice came from and saw Mokuba's father striding to where he is.

"Daddy, thank you! You've given me the best birthday gift ever!" Mokuba said in between excited sniffles.

"Mommy came back with us!"

Yami was at a loss for words. 'Mommy? _Mommy_? _Me_?'

'_WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?'_

**To Be Continued**


	2. Kidnap?

**Mother Figure by Aoi Rakuen **

Yu-Gi-Oh is a legal property of Kazuki Takahashi, and other big names. It's not mine. Don't sue me.

**SUMMARY**: YGO AU FIC. What if you're paid to be the mother of a billionaire's son? But what if you're a MAN? Yami goes through this life-changing situation when he strikes a deal with CEO Seto Kaiba. Read and Review! XD

"…" – spoken dialogue

'…' – thoughts; sometimes come _italicized_.

**.o0o.**

**Chapter Two – Kidnap?**

Did you hear that? The kid just called me 'Mommy'!

**Mommy!**

What's that supposed to mean?!

Believe me, it might be flattering to be called 'mommy' by a rich man's son. If I were a girl, I would've been thrilled.

But I'm a MAN, dammit! Isn't it a bit insulting to my masculinity and pride to be called 'Mommy'? Are my god-given looks too feminine for my own good?

Okay, I admit it. So I _do_ look like a girl at some point. Can you blame me if genetics happened to play a sick cosmic joke on me when I was being made in my mother's womb? My built was far too skinny to be a man's; my face a pleasant oval rather than a rough square; my eyes seem framed by natural eyeliner, with lashes far too longer than was absolutely necessary.

Hey, at least I didn't grow boobs.

So why is Kaiba staring at me as if I sprouted some?

**.o0o.**

"Mister Kaiba apologizes for the inconvenience his son has caused you, Mister Mutou."

Yami's hand unconsciously rubbed his sore shoulder; Mokuba practically made him a makeshift bed, the latter refusing to let go of him until he eventually fell asleep on him. Not being able to take a decent shower with the kid occasionally hanging around, Yami was more than willing to go home and get some.

Yet whatever discomfort he felt, he did not dare air it out in front of the butler or to anyone else. Holding a hand as if to shrug off the other man's worries, he said, "Don't worry, it's okay. No harm done, anyway."

"Nevertheless, Mister Kaiba wishes to pay you extra for staying overtime as compensation." The man dug into the breast pocket of his uniform, pulled out a long white envelope, and held it at the teenager.

'_Damn right he should,' _thought Yami as he placidly takes the envelope. Yet he couldn't help but frown a little in disdain. '_Kaiba should've done this himself rather than sending his maid to do the job.'_

As if reading his mind, the manservant added, "Unfortunately, Mister Kaiba cannot talk to you personally; he has other urgent matters at hand. I hope you understand, Mister Mutou."

'_And whoever said I wanted him to see me off?' _"It's okay. No hard feelings."

"Then a good evening to you, Mister Mutou." Sweeping down to a low bow, the butler bade the young man good night before finally clamping the gate shut as Yami got off the Kaiba mansion.

Joey already left a lot earlier that he did; the blond youth's got another part-time job and a date to catch – the latter seemed to be putting him in a lot a stress. '_Who wouldn't be when you have a high-maintenance girl like Mai for a girlfriend?'_

Yami pushed his hands into his jeans pocket, slowly walking up a reasonable pace while trying to decide which path to take that would lead him home faster. Fingering an impressive wad of bills inside his pocket, he smiled.

"Maybe I should buy Yugi his favorite ramen." Turning right for Downtown Domino, he left the illustrious mansion behind.

Yami did not notice someone watching him from the house's lavish balcony.

**.o0o.**

"Mommy, where are you? Mommy?"

"Young master, please calm down; you just had a nightmare –"

"NO! Where's Mommy? She was here a while ago; where is she?"

It was the dead of the night when the young Kaiba woke, and to his horror, found that his mother was nowhere to be found.

His personal baby-sitter was already at the brink of tears as she saw Mokuba's tear-stricken face and his unsubdued cries. "Young Master –"

"I WANT MOMMY, NOT YOU!" the child screamed before finally collapsing on the soft feather mattress, his sobs slightly muffled by the blanket.

The door to Mokuba's room opened, bathing a portion of it with light from the outside, casting shadows on little toys lying messily and haphazardly around. Seto appeared on the doorway. One look at the sitter was enough to drive her away. Muttering a quick apology, she scurried out.

"Daddy, where's Mommy?" came Mokuba's teary inquiry.

"Your mommy's not here, Mokuba," Seto replied as he shook his head, unsettling his oak-brown hair, "She was never here." He reached out a hand to pat comfortingly at his son, but the child shoved it away.

"Liar!" New tears stung the sad pale-blue eyes. "Mommy wants to stay, but you made her leave! You always do!

"I hate you, Daddy, I hate you!"

Seto gave a resigned sigh.

**.o0o.**

Yami let out a disgruntled yawn. "Yeah I know, Joey; it was just plain freaky. How did I manage to look like that kid's mom?"

"Aah, it boggles the mind," said Joey from the other end of the phone line. He suppressed a yawn. "Dammit Yami, your yawn's contagious!"

"Lack of sleep, Wheeler. You know the drill."

"Still looking for jobs at online classified ads?"

"Yeah, but no such luck. But enough of me," Yami decided a change of topic. "Now how about you – how's your date last night?"

"Nothing unusual. I still think it's a huge waste of money going to that restaurant, though."

"Looks like you've got money to splurge now, eh lover boy?"

"Are you kidding me? That's why I think that restaurant sucked; it took almost all of my month's savings."

Yami chuckled. "Thank God I'm not tied down with a material girl like Mai."

"Haha, Mutou, really funny."

Yami toyed with the house keys on his hand. "Hey listen, Joey. I gotta go. I'm off to Downtown to replenish the house's food supply. Yugi wants a lot of fruit yogurt, and my gel supply is running really low."

"Cool. And while you're at it, score me some buttered scones and muffins at the local bakery."

"Fine, but this lot won't come free, Wheeler."

"'Kay. See ya then."

Yami hung up the phone. He hasn't moved an inch from his chair when the phone rang again. He picked it up.

"And don't forget my freshly-squeezed orange juice!"

"All right, Wheeler. I'll go now. Bye!" Click.

A second later, the phone rang again. Yami seized it with more force than he intended to, this time, with a hint of exasperation and impatience in his voice.

"I get it already, Wheeler. You want some scones, muffins, and orange juice. Now sod off before I kick your ass."

"I take it that you're Yami Mutou?" a different voice answered.

"And who're you?" Yami asked in a loud and somewhat-accusing voice. Mistaking the voice as the landlord, he added. "I'm not paying the rent until the end of the month, and I don't think I have any overdue debts to settle with you people either, get that?"

A soft, derisive chuckle. "Don't worry, I did not call to update you on your payables, Mister Mutou."

"Who's this?" Yami demanded impatiently.

"I would advise you to watch your civilities. This is Seto Kaiba."

A few moments' silence. Then Yami raised an eyebrow and fought an urge to stifle a bored yawn, apparently unimpressed. "Right, mister," he drawled. "Then if you're Kaiba, I must be the President of the United States."

"What –"

"Listen, buddy. I don't know what the hell you're playing at, but I ain't buying. So do you mind? I still need to do some grocery."

And with that, Yami slammed the phone shut, and rolled his eyes. "Seto Kaiba? _Honestly_."

**.o0o.**

Yami placed down his payment on the counter as he took the brown paper bag from the cashier. Digging inside it with his free hand, he fished out a chocolate-covered doughnut and bit on it indulgently.

"Thank God for chocolate," he murmured, contented, as he took another bite. Walking up to the exit of the store, he realized that both his hands were full. He stared stupidly for a moment, and, as if on cue, the door opened for him.

"Thanks," he said gratefully to a man dressed in crisp black uniform. Another man with the same outfit approached him.

"Mister Yami Mutou?"

Yami suddenly turned suspicious. '_Why do these guys know my name?' _"Yeah?"

More anonymous men flocked to him like nails to a large magnet.

"You need to come with us." A bulky man, who seemed to be the head honcho, grabbed hold of his shoulder, steering him away from the shop.

Yami was trying hard to contain his panic. As far as he knew, he didn't commit any crime or felony against someone, except perhaps shouting and snapping at some random passersby. But other than that, he was basically spotless.

Not knowing what to say to defend himself, he simply blurted out, "It was just doughnuts, I swear!"

**To Be Continued**


	3. Deal

**Mother Figure by Aoi Rakuen**

Yu-Gi-Oh is a legal property of Kazuki Takahashi, and other big names. It's not mine. Don't sue me.

**SUMMARY**: YGO AU FIC. What if you're paid to be the mother of a billionaire's son? But what if you're a MAN? Yami goes through this life-changing situation when he strikes a deal with CEO Seto Kaiba. Read and Review! XD

"…" – spoken dialogue

'…' – thoughts; sometimes come _italicized_.

**.o0o.**

**Chapter Three – Deal**

This is actually my first time to ride a limo in my entire life, my past life included.

Right now I'm thinking about a lot of things. How to break out of this car, for instance. I could open the window and scream my guts out for the whole Domino to hear. Or I could just be a good chap and sit like a behaved civilized man.

A quick look at the powerhouse sentinels on either side of me practically extinguished my rebellious and war-freak streak. Who wouldn't? Look at their bodies! My whole body weight would probably be equal to that man's right arm alone. Creepy.

At least my voice was still intact, for I was able to throw out a question.

"What's going on here?"

Silence greeted me afterwards. No one stirred. Oh great, I have been placed with a company of walls.

"We are on orders to escort you, Mister Mutou," one finally said, after what seem like an eternity. Whether their body mass is inversely proportional to their brain size, I didn't dare find out.

"Escort me? Where to?"

No answer.

I squirmed in my seat, finding no comfort in the otherwise-fabulous and leather-clad interior of the limousine. My grocery bags were still in one piece, along with Joey's bag of goodies, but I didn't feel like eating anything. I'd rather have a big whole swallow me right now instead. Sadly, none came.

Several minutes passed – could've been hours, I don't know; I didn't have a watch on me. I was madly considering breaking for the car door when the engine came to a complete stop. The goliaths boarded out first and waited on me to get out. Aah, such courtesy, coming from walls.

I slid my right foot before my other foot followed suit. One look at my current position, I'd say I'm in the Domino Business District. High-rise buildings glinted like parapets; their heights matching up as if challenging each other to reach the sun, which was now shining overhead.

"This way, Mister Mutou." I was led through a clear glass entrance of yet another important-looking building. Two ominous words greeted me when I entered the threshold, all in gleaming gold letters.

Kaiba Corporation.

**.o0o.**

"I told you to watch your civilities, Mutou. Otherwise, it wouldn't have to come to this."

Yami stood at the doorway of the office of the building's most important man, hardly believing himself that he was actually here. Having little time to take in what's inside of the illustrious space, he was instantly jolted back when a clear voice cut through his thoughts.

"Come inside, Mister Mutou, and have a seat."

Red eyes followed the source of the voice, and saw a tall man behind a clear glass table, basking in the noontime sun, wisps of russet hair framing a pair of calm yet mirthless blue eyes.

Seto Kaiba.

Yami felt a pang of embarrassment digging into his system, but he quickly dismissed it; he was not about to admit his mistake that easily. "So it was you who called that time?" he asked in a defiant voice. He approached the table and sat down on the farthest chair he could find, any space that would put as much distance from him and the businessman.

"Caught on, haven't you? Took you long enough, though. Nice telephone conversation we had, don't you think so?" Seto said smugly at his visitor.

Yami was about to open his mouth in retaliation when someone knocked at the door. A woman came in bearing a long silver tray in her hands. He watched in silent awe at quick and deft hands that served out a steaming pot of tea, a platter of pastries, and some condiments to both men. She left as quickly as she came.

Seto took a sip from his cup, billows of smoke rising up until dispersing in the air. The young capitalist settled the china down, and averted his eyes to stare at the man on the other end of the table.

"It's not poisoned, you know."

"I know that," Yami snapped, as he looked away, his cheeks mimicking a tinge of red; the Kaiba never wavered his gaze. But he felt a bit relieved, now that he'd seen the other man drink and _live_, Yami reached for a tasty-looking muffin, and found that he was famished; he hasn't got a decent meal since yesterday's party.

"Okay, _Mister_ Kaiba, pray tell me why am I here?" He asked in the most respectful voice he could manage, but never forgetting to add a dash of sarcasm. He brought the cup to his lips and took a long sip while waiting for an answer.

"Needless to say Mister Mutou, I am interested in you."

Yami swallowed the hot liquid abruptly, feeling his tongue getting singed. He coughed considerably as he settled the cup down with force, the tea splashing down on the glass table. "What?" he dared the businessman to repeat what he had said, because Yami was getting insane and indecent ideas.

Seto seemed to have caught on, and realized his wordings. "No you idiot, I didn't mean interested in _that_ kind of way," he snapped. "Don't read anything into what I'm saying." He flashed a cold glare across the table.

Yami lovingly returned the other's hostile gaze. The businessman stopped and turned away first, but unmistakably making out a new retort in his head. "Just so you know, Mutou, I am Seto Kaiba. Unfortunately for you, you're not the President of the United States."

The other recognized that line several hours back on the phone. Yami stared unblinkingly at Seto, fervently wishing he could smash the pompous git into several minute pieces.

Yet Seto seemed unfazed at the killing intent coming from the other man. He continued, "You are Yami Mutou, age 24. You are living with your grandfather, Suguroku Mutou, 65, and your younger brother Yugi Mutou, 6. Both your parents are deceased. You are a college dropout. You are currently unemployed, and now you are in a terrible fix as to how are you going to pay this month's bills, as I have realized when we had that phone conversation. You –"

"Now wait just a minute, mister!" Yami, this time, was not in any position to cut the CEO off, but upon hearing facts about his personal life, he started to feel suspicious and threatened. "Who told you to butt into the finer details of my life? You're breaching someone else's privacy, you know. Just because you're a rich jerk –"

"Believe me, Mutou, you are entitled to your precious privacy, so keep it all you want, for I am not going to steal it away from you," Seto drawled lazily as he stared at his fingernails, apparently uninterested. "Besides, I am not barging into your privacy; I am merely doing a background profile investigation. I want to know the person who I will be dealing with. It's better to be sure, Mister Mutou."

Yami started on what the other man had said. He raised an eyebrow, and asked rather innocently, "Hang on, what do you mean, 'who I will be dealing with'?"

Seto clucked his tongue impatiently before sliding a black folder to Yami from across the table, who caught it expertly. He opened it to view its contents: a couple of standard-sized pictures, along with a few descriptions. One look at the photographs was enough. "This is Mokuba," Yami said blankly, recognizing the child from yesterday's birthday party.

"Yami Mutou, I presume it has come to your attention that my son calls and recognizes you as his mother, as evidenced from what had happened the previous day." Yami nodded briefly in response, but was still confused.

"I shall cut to the chase, Mutou, seeing that you lack the ample amount of comprehension at the moment." The businessman now stood up and approached the other end of the table. "I am striking a deal with you wherein you move into my house, pretend to be his mother, and care for him. Simple as that."

**.o0o.**

"I am striking a deal with you wherein you move into my house, pretend to be his mother, and care for him. Simple as that."

Simple? You call that offer simple?

For one, Kaiba wants me to move into his house. Who in their right minds would offer a stranger to move into his place, especially when it comes from the likes of rich businessmen like Seto Kaiba?

Number two: he wants me to pretend to be Mokuba's mother. Me, a mother? I couldn't even become a proper brother to Yugi and now this stranger wants me to be a mother to a kid I hardly knew? Why should I care for him anyway? They've got a whole staff of maids and babysitters; they could just hire one and be done with it. I don't exactly fulfill all possible requirements to be a sitter, let alone a mother.

"Has it ever occurred to you that I'm a man?" I asked.

I saw him trying hard not to roll his eyes out of annoyance. "I did a background check on you, didn't I? I was just as stumped as you are. Exactly how you happen to look _uncannily_ like his mother I could only guess."

I stood up; I think I've had enough of this crap. "So you order all your goons to kidnap me and bring me to this place just to strike up a deal that will most certainly be declined? You must be nuts, Kaiba." Not waiting for his reply, I made a move towards the door.

"Nuts? Far from it actually, Mister Mutou. You haven't even heard half of it."

I spun around. "Oh yeah? As far as I'm concerned, this conversation is over. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to find my grocery bags – "

"I am willing to pay one-hundred thousand dollars for every month you spend in my house, plus benefits and incentives courtesy of the Kaiba Corporation, along with a full scholarship grant for your little brother," I heard Kaiba say. "Think about it, Yami. Your family will never go hungry again, and your brother's future shall be assured."

I stalked back to the table, to where Kaiba stood, watching me unblinkingly. I evened out as much height I could muster to stare back at the brunet businessman. Then without further ado, I banged my fist on the table.

"DEAL!"

I watch as Kaiba's lips curl up in a triumphant smirk.

**To Be Continued**


	4. Sacrifice

**Mother Figure by Aoi Rakuen**

Yu-Gi-Oh is a legal property of Kazuki Takahashi, and other big names. It's not mine. Don't sue me.

**SUMMARY**: YGO AU FIC. What if you're paid to be the mother of a billionaire's son? But what if you're a MAN? Yami goes through this life-changing situation when he strikes a deal with CEO Seto Kaiba. Read and Review! XD

"…" – spoken dialogue

'…' – thoughts; sometimes come _italicized_.

**.o0o.**

**Chapter Four: Sacrifice**

The moment I banged my fist on the table, I knew from then that my life will never be the same as I know it.

Kaiba was apparently pleased when I took the deal, and there was something in his look that told me that his perception of me is that I was easy to buy, that his money was enough to make me worship him.

Hell NO!

The only reason I agreed to do all this was for Yugi and Grandpa's sake. I don't want Gramps to work just to let us live; I think he's been doing that for more than half of his life, and I personally do not want him to be burdened anymore. I'm an adult now (though a dropout), and I should take full responsibility from now on. Yugi's still young, and I want him to be a success story, and not end up being another loser like me.

I wouldn't say no to a hundred thousand dollars every month either. Would you?

Upon hearing my answer to the offer he proposed, Kaiba looked almost eager to get me started on the job, or eager to have me get killed in the process – the latter seemed more likely to happen. But first, he presented me a small bundle of papers, wherein I have to affix my signature. This made me roll my eyes; I'm not exactly the kind of person who goes back on his words.

"What's with all these formalities? It's not like I'll run away from this," I said, as I signed my name on what seemed to be the tenth copy of the contract.

Kaiba raised an eyebrow, and proudly said, "I am a businessman, Mutou; everything must be in black and white. Plus, this will serve as evidence, should you commit a breach of contract which is punishable in the court of law."

I narrowed my eyes. What does he take me for, some low-life mishap bound to run away?

"Jerk," I muttered heavily under my breath.

"You said something?"

"No, I said you're cute."

"Thank you."

Oh boy.

**.o0o.**

After the "eventful" contract signing (I was being sarcastic), there was no more time for celebration. Not that I'm looking for one. This is one of the deals where you're practically left with no other choice, given the circumstances.

Almost instantly, Kaiba brought out his cell phone and called someone. I was left on my own to do a bit of sightseeing in the expensive office. I didn't see much, save for some equally pricey figurines: table sculptures wrought from illustrious ivory, paperweights made out of lapis lazuli, a boring bookshelf (none of the books I recognized), and others.

I motioned to his table, where a laptop was on, and a neat stack of papers and folders huddled closely together. I noticed the large, plasma screen television installed on the wall, one that I mistook for a painting at first. (The monitor looked like it was on standby mode or something) But my eyes did not linger on it further, for my attention was diverted to something on Kaiba's desk.

There was a small picture frame made of platinum (or some really posh metal of some sort), standing inconspicuously at the side of the table. I lifted it up to see the picture more clearly.

The photo was taken some few years back, evident in both subjects of the picture – Kaiba and his son, Mokuba. There was something awfully nice about it; apart from the fact that it was done by a top-of-the-line photographer, a cheery persona hung around both of them – the kind of aura that would make you curl your lips fondly. Mokuba had a heartening grin that could melt anyone's heart, his pale blue eyes glinted with apparent joy no camera trick could achieve. And it was pretty disturbing to see Kaiba SMILING, and not smirking, nor frowning.

He had a stunning pair of sapphire eyes, I noticed now for the first time. There was neither sign of animosity nor vehemence in his young face.

For a moment I was convinced that this is not Kaiba. Not a chance in hell.

And yet –

"What the hell are you doing?" a voice snapped me out of my reverie. Strong hands snatched the frame from my hands as I look up in time to see a pair of icy pools with an insane amount of annoyance scribbled across his face.

Now THIS IS KAIBA.

"Who told you to mess around with my belongings?" he snapped as he settled the photo frame back to where it stood, his eyes flashing me an insolent glare. "I understand that we are united under a formal and legal contract, but that does not mean you can touch anything that is of my possession in my house and certainly not in my office."

I bit my lip for a moment; I'm sensing a good opportunity to hurl a retort. "Background Profile Investigation, Mister Kaiba, so I know who I will be dealing with. This gives both of us an even footing."

Kaiba stared long enough before turning away from me. "Jerk," he muttered darkly.

"I heard that."

**.o0o.**

"Asano will escort you out of the building, and bring you back to your house so you could inform your family," Seto said to Yami as he typed expertly on the keyboard, not even pausing to glance at the latter.

Yami found himself surrounded by the same bunch of intimidating guards once more. "This way please, Mister Mutou," said one of them, bowing respectfully while motioning a hand to the door.

"When will I start on this?" Yami asked. He felt that he'd better get over this quickly to smarten things up before anything mad happens.

"You will be informed," came Seto's curt answer, and there was silence again, save for the rhythmic tapping of fingers against the keyboard.

Yami shrugged his head dismissively. Not knowing what to say to break the silence, he grunted, "Well then…see you around…" in a slow and rather hesitant voice to the businessman before finally allowing himself to be led by the guards out of the office.

Seto stopped from his typing, long enough to see the shorter man move out of his room. He reached for his mobile phone.

"Asano, make sure to buy Mister Mutou a good dinner before you bring him home."

**.o0o.**

"Onii-chan, I was worried!"

Yami rubbed his back gingerly as he now proceeded to sit down on the couch. Yugi, in a fit of happiness and anxiety, had jumped on Yami a second ago, trampling the elder brother in the process the moment he stepped inside of their house.

Joey was with Yugi, who was worried all the same for his friend. "One second later and I would've called the cops, Yami," he said. "You didn't even show up to give me my snack!"

Yami threw a brown paper bag at him in response. "There. It's already cold, though, so you will have to reheat that thing."

"Where were you all that time, Onii-chan?" Yugi asked, his amethyst eyes brimming with mild curiosity and worry as he settled beside his older brother, waiting for an answer.

"Oh, just the usual, Yugi. I did the grocery, and bought Joey some food." Yami noticed Joey raising an inquiring albeit unconvinced eyebrow at him. Clearing his throat significantly, he continued, "I bought you your favorite yogurt. Why don't you go and get some for yourself before you sleep?"

"You mean I won't be drinking milk tonight?"

Yami smiled and nodded. Yugi gave a jubilant yell of "Yippee!" in reply. "Thanks, Onii-chan!"

"Be sure to brush your teeth before you go to bed!" Yami called after his younger sibling, who bounded happily to the kitchen, leaving the two friends alone in the living room.

It was Joey who broke the silence. "Well, what are you waiting for? Spit it out."

The older Mutou absentmindedly brought his hand to go his dyed hair. He appeared calm and composed despite the series of events that transpired this day – at least, that's what he tried to do. Yet Yami was having an internal battle whether or not he should tell Yugi and Joey about his encounter with Seto, the deal notwithstanding.

He stared at Joey, who was looking back at him quizzically and expectantly. For a moment, his friend looked as if he instantly read his mind – which was very unlikely because Joey was never the clairvoyant type. Yami watched as the blond man leaned toward him and whispered.

"Is it Téa?"

Yami blinked at first, startled. "No, it's not her, you idiot!" he cried as he seized a pillow and threw it squarely at Joey's face. "Where in Hell did you get that idea?" But he couldn't help but let out a relieved sigh. '_Thank God Joey can't read minds.'_

His friend laughed. "Well, 'can't think of someone bothering you these days other than her, Yami."

"She can't bother me, Wheeler; at the very least she has to find me first."

"So if it's not her, then what's up with you?"

Yami sighed. This time, he felt that at the very least his closest friend _should_ know about what he's in to; Joey, after all, stood by him through thick and thin. Of course, there was still Yugi, but he was still a child. His younger brother would understand perhaps, but now was certainly not the time for that. "Fine, Joey, I'll tell you. But don't say I didn't warn you."

**.o0o.**

"YOU HAVE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME!"

I threw – what seemed to be – the thousandth pillow at Joey. (As if I have a thousand pillows) "Keep it down, Wheeler! Grandpa and Yugi are already sleeping!" I said in a hushed whisper, albeit irritated and near to murderous intent. The last thing I wanted to happen was for the whole neighborhood to hear about this.

"I don't believe it, Yami. Kaiba did that? This is so -"

I shoved the copy of the contract Kaiba gave to me in front of Joey's eyes. "Like I said, it's all there written and signed by both me and Kaiba. Even If I were playing a joke on you, I won't even think of coming close to doing this!"

Joey reread the whole contract, his amber eyes going over the lines once more. "Just unbelievable, Yami. UN-BE-LIE-VA-BLE." He even had to syllabicate the word, stressing every letter of it.

I scowled. "Joey…I know it's unbelievable; you don't need to say it every damn second." And then I caught a dreamy look in my friend's face. "Are you even listening to me?" I demanded.

"A hundred-thousand dollars, Yami, a hundred thousand! Every friggin' month! A year in that place and you're a millionaire! I'd kill just to get that huge sum of dough!"

I irritably took the contract from his hands and flashed him a glare. "If you're so eager about this, then you should take this offer!"

Joey snorted. "Nah, I don't want it, anyways. I'd rather see you go through it."

I scowled openly at him yet again. "Yeah, thanks for nothing, Wheeler." It was then when he suddenly turned serious.

"You'll tell Yugi and your Grandpa about this, won't you?"

**.o0o.**

"Exactly how long will you be on this training?"

"I don't know, Grandpa; the contract says it's for an indefinite period. Probably a few months."

Yami's grandfather adjusted his reading glasses as he went over the paper again. "One hundred- thousand dollars per month, plus board and lodging, plus health benefits, incentives AND a scholarship grant for Yugi." He fixed his eyes on his eldest grandson. "I don't know Yami, this deal seems too good to be true."

Yami sighed. "I know, Grandpa. It's just too good to be true."

**.o0o.**

I was finding it hard to look at Joey straight in the eye.

We were on board a bus back to my place. I instantly picked a window seat, allowing my eyes to wander aimlessly beyond the window, going past the slow blur of lines of passing buildings, houses, and the people of Domino.

"You should've told them the truth, Yami. At least you'll have a little peace of mind."

I shifted my gaze from the window to him. "Would it give Grandpa peace of mind if I told him something like, 'Hi Grandpa, I'll be gone for a long time because I'm going to be a MOTHER to a five-year old kid'? I'd probably give him a heart attack than peace."

Joey started to protest. "But –"

"I understand that you meant well, Joey, but I personally think this is the best way. Believe me."

I saw him struggling to speak, but thought better of it. My eyes drifted back to the window.

Saying this to Yugi proved to be a much difficult task, whether I was lying or not. I was so accustomed to watching over him – waking him up to prepare for school, fixing his lunch, walking him to the school gates, playing, tucking him to bed – that it inevitably became a part of my life more than anything. It pains a big brother like me to leave him, and leave that circle of friendship and love that I worked so hard to forge.

In fact I was able to shed a few rare tears when I told little Yugi about this, (with Joey behind us crying himself hoarse) watching with tear-stricken eyes as he hugged me tight, his cries muffled as he burrowed deep in my arms until he cried himself to sleep.

"_Think about it, Yami. Your family will never go hungry again, and your brother's future shall be assured."_

Kaiba's words came to me, reverberating inside my thoughts. I clenched my fists resolutely.

This goddamn deal had better be worth every single sacrifice I made, Kaiba.

**.o0o.**

Two days later, Yami saw a limousine parked outside their house. He trudged toward it with Joey in tow. He was expecting for Seto to inform him when he'll start of course, but he didn't anticipate it to be THIS early.

He instantly recognized the uniformed man waiting outside their gate. "Asano," he called to catch the man's attention.

Asano gave a brief bow to Yami. "Mister Mutou, we have been instructed to escort you, upon Mister Kaiba's orders."

Yami paused for a moment. "I see." He motioned towards the gate. "In that case, I'll get my clothes."

"That won't be necessary, sir. It is imperative that you start at once."

**.o0o.**

Without further ado, I was dumped inside the car without even allowing me to say goodbye to Yugi or Joey. I heard Joey saying, "Don't forget to write!" from the outside when the engine started to life.

I sat in silence again, surrounded by the same crowd of guards from that fateful day, three days ago. But this time I was relatively complacent than apprehensive.

"Where are we going this time? To Kaiba's house?"

"Not yet, Mister Mutou. Mister Kaiba wants you properly dressed when he meets you."

"What's wrong with my clothes? He can see me fine with these." I stared at my red T-shirt along with my black denim pants.

Asano cleared his throat. "_Properly dressed_, Mister Mutou," he said uneasily, yet still not forgetting to emphasize his first two words.

Properly…dressed…

**.o0o.**

"Finally, finally! What took you people so long? Haven't you realized I have other appointments to attend to?"

Yami was now being held firmly by two heavyset guards, as the former has been struggling very hard to escape ever since the limousine ride. Apparently, Seto's men found out, Mister Mutou DID NOT – in any way – take the agenda for the day lightly. Rather it was met with force along with an endless string of curses that eventually led to physical injuries. Asano, particularly, had his shades shattered mercilessly (courtesy of the angered youth) along with an impressive black eye as a memoir.

When they finally reached the destination, tempers were already running high and Yami's mood did not improve the slightest, even shooting to dangerous levels when he boarded out of the limousine to see a beauty salon in front of him.

"Oh my… this is what the Kaiba boy wanted me to beautify?" came the languid and silky voice as the said person approached Yami, reaching out a hand to pass through his hair, and then tilting his chin, until finally drawing away to observe him from few feets' distance.

"Long hair, very frizzy and unkempt – needs proper conditioning or an intensive hair rebond; Face – needs a facial scrub to rid of the blackheads and some other blemishes; A full body massage and spa – we got to get rid of that body hair too. Are you taking these down, Mermaid?"

"Wait, who the hell are you?" Yami asked impatiently after the person paused to scold what seem to be, an assistant.

But the other wasn't paying him any attention. "Oh will you just LOOK at the state of his clothes! Versace – if ever he were still alive – would have a fit! Round up Milan's designers, _por favor_! We have a distressing fashion emergency here!"

Clearly Yami could see that he was being poked at about his "distressing" fashion sense. "Now hold on just a minute, you – " he was discerning over how he would call the person " – _someone_. I don't know who gave you authority to –"

He was abruptly cut short when a magazine slapped against the side of his face. "Now watch your tongue, _tonto_! If it weren't for dear DEAR Kaiba boy, I wouldn't even bother doing this for an unwashed citizen like you!"

"So don't. I'm not forcing you anyway," Yami retorted in gritted teeth. The guy's slap hurt a lot.

"Unfortunately for both of us, I have my orders while you are on a deal." He shooed the black-suited guards away from Yami. He landed his manicured hands on the young man's shoulders and fixed him a meaningful stare.

"I am Pegasus, my boy. Remember the name who will transform a larva like you to a magnificent butterfly!"

**To Be Continued**


	5. Metamorphosis

**Mother Figure by Aoi Rakuen **

Yu-Gi-Oh is a legal property of Kazuki Takahashi, and other big names. It's not mine. Don't sue me.

**SUMMARY**: YGO AU FIC. What if you're paid to be the mother of a billionaire's son? But what if you're a MAN? Yami goes through this life-changing situation when he strikes a deal with CEO Seto Kaiba. Read and Review! XD

"…" – spoken dialogue

'…' – thoughts; sometimes come _italicized_.

**.o0o.**

**Chapter Five – Metamorphosis**

"Hey! HEY! Where the HELL ARE YOU BRINGING ME!"

Without further explanation (not even the faintest of warnings), I was unceremoniously dragged (by the gay man's DOZEN assistants) to the inner sanctum of the dreaded beauty salon, where I shall be subjected to God-knows-what. How should I know? I'm a MAN, in case they haven't noticed; as if it's really my type to hang around at places like these.

ESPECIALLY THIS PLACE.

Though beauty salons are hardly the type you take seriously, this building seemed an exception. The very air just REEKED of something bigger and much more extravagant cooking among the beauticians that loiter inside it. Pretty soon, I found out why.

"I'll have you know, _hijo_, that this is the top-of-the-line beauty salon to rival Europe's and the likes of Revlon and Loreal, where the _alta de ciudad's_ most influential and tantalizing beauties go to enhance their assets!"

I furrowed my brow in silent confusion; who the hell are Revlon and Loreal?

However, Pegasus didn't seem to notice me and plowed on. "Domino's most famous models, actresses, and beauty queens practically line up just to see me! You ought to show more gratitude, since you're talking to a certified fashion and beauty guru!" Then he started enumerating every single person that "made the headlines, graced the gossip tabloids, and those who sauntered their stuff on the centerfold of perverts' magazines" (Pegasus boasted those himself); none of the names he cited I recognize. And here he was, saying they're goddamn famous! Then how come I didn't know them?

Thankfully, my ears blocked off every unnecessary noise from the outside, which fortunately includes Pegasus' incessant chatter.

**.o0o.**

Pegasus took the liberty of explaining his staff what kind of monstrosity they're planning to do to me. I was part speechless ('cause I don't know squat of what they're talking about), and a whole lot furious, because they talked so _coolly_, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

If anything, that silver-haired gay dude looked ecstatic to begin. This unnerved me in more ways than one.

Herein begins Nightmare Phase One: Naked and Violated.

I was ushered inside a large expanse of a bathroom, the air wet and moist, hot mist lingering low among the pristine tiles. Then suddenly, three assistants stepped up and started TAKING MY CLOTHES OFF. I was taken by surprise, that by the time I reacted, my shirt and shoes were already discarded, while someone was already busy fumbling at the zipper of my pants.

"HEY!" I cried out, now more aware than ever. I attempted to wean away from the group trying to relieve me of my clothes, but ended in vain. No one stirred, but continued to proceed like nothing happened. The only fabric that clung to me was my underwear. An assistant made a move to pull it down. I swatted his hand away.

"Don't you fucking dare!" I warned, sucking every available evil to let me flash a look that could kill. The guy looked unfazed by my stare, clucked his tongue impatiently, and proceeded anyway, his hand already on my waist.

That did it. I curled my fist and delivered an uppercut, my hand solidly connecting with his chin. He fell magnificently. I was huffing like hell, more like of fury than embarrassment. Almost instantly, I felt hands restraining me, but I was not to be deterred. I thrashed around with the tantrum of a child, wrath of gods be damned.

But the footsteps that echoed inside the large bathroom were hard not to miss. Pegasus approached me, resplendent in his fine red suit, his lips pouted in a grimace. "Oh dear, dear. Looks like we will have to take more necessary precautions…"

"What do you mean 'necessary –" I stopped abruptly, when I felt pressure applied at the back of my neck. Then everything began to swim around in a blur.

Then darkness.

**.o0o.**

Yami had the weirdest and the most gruesome dream: he was being skinned alive. Pegasus stood over him, potato peelers on either of his hands, his melodramatic laugh sounding shrill and evil, like an old hag ready to devour a little kid.

"EX-FO-LI-ATE!" he said in a singsong voice, the word repeating over and over, reverberating inside Yami's thoughts, and refusing to die down.

"WAAAAAAAHHH!" He cried in pain. "I'M BEING SKINNED ALIVE! I'M –"

He opened my eyes, just in time to see a room furnished in tiles; steam and humidity clung to his bare skin like soggy clothing.

'_Bare…skin…'_

"WAAAAAAAHHH!" Yami's voice echoed in the bathroom, bringing back his lost strings of consciousness before he passed out, as well as something else – stinging pain pulsing in his raw skin. He was lying on his stomach, with someone scrubbing his back with something really rough. Yami hissed in pain.

"So you're awake now, Yami boy?"

Bringing his right hand to brush away a limp lock of hair away from his face, Yami stared malevolently at the otherwise-happy beautician. "What the hell are you doing to me! Are you skinning me– OW!"

"EX-FO-LI-ATE!" came that disturbing singsong chirp, "My boy, we are getting rid of accumulated dirt and grime in your body, ones that stayed behind even after your purge from the shower. We are also attempting to even out your skin tone. You, of all people should be grateful –"

"You're shredding the skin off my ass! How am I supposed to feel, forever thankful that – OW!" He gave a smoldering glare at the assistant scrubbing his back. He then heard Pegasus heaved a sigh, tired and exasperated at the same time.

"Oh dear, he won't stop chattering at this rate. Can someone please knock him out again?"

"So you could violate me again! There's no friggin' –"

Before Yami could finish his retort, he felt a brief nudge against his nape. He was already unconscious before his head slumped against the mat; a dull, muffled thud echoing inside the bathroom.

**.o0o.**

"Let me get this straight: YOU WANT ME TO BATHE IN THAT THING?"

Pegasus was trying hard not to commit suicide right then and there, and instead just act as nonchalant as possible. The latter proved to be very difficult to do. 'Where in the dumps did Kaiba boy get this…uncouth man?' he thought, overtly doubting Seto's judgment at the moment. "That is milk, young man. Milk. _Leche_. _Gyuunyuu_. Rich in Calcium, and rich in moisturizers to soothe your body. Now," he pushed Yami half-heartedly, as if coaxing him to dump his head first into the tub, "in you get, my boy. Go on!"

Yami stared apprehensively at the swirling creamy liquid inside the tub, uncertain if that was indeed milk inside and not some unholy substance. But that wasn't his only sentiment. "All those milk going to waste just for me to take a dip in," he started. "That tub alone is worth three months' supply of milk for Yugi!"

The head beautician held up a hand to his temple; he had a big headache coming. "I would advise that you cooperate with me, boy, or I'll have you immobilized for as many times it can take," he snapped. "Now get in the tub, _ahora mismo_!"

Hearing the waspish and urgent tone from the other, Yami had no choice but to do it and be done with it. He didn't want to get knocked out again either; he was missing out on too many things. Not that he wanted to see his metamorphosis from a man to a woman step-by-step; he wanted nothing but to ensure that no one – especially that effeminate man – would ever go near him with malicious intent.

**.o0o.**

I think this is the beginning of Nightmare Phase Two: Oatmeal Crackers. (I am feeling very creative today.)

After that "refreshing" milk bath (it wasn't one bit refreshing – more like sticky), I was brought out of that hellish bathroom and into a cooler place, replete with mirrors and other worldly clutter – a television, a big clump of magazines, an air conditioner (thank God), some carts, combs, hair dryers – the usual things you see in a beauty parlor.

"Now we work on your face," Pegasus said.

I started. "My face? What's wrong with my face?" My eyes went wide with panic; are they going to perform plastic surgery on me?

"We shall exfoliate – remove blackheads, whiteheads, and blemishes - and moisturize your dry visage." I saw him held up a particularly sharp weapon, as if threatening to slit my throat than do a facial scrub. I gulped silently; some battles are not meant to be fought head-on. One wrong move and I'm sure to go home with a glorious scar on my face.

I think I'd better not go through the intricacies of the process. All I know is that I cried in pain for more than was absolutely necessary while they picked at my nose, my cheeks, my forehead and others, extracting some of those unwanted baggage. I was fervently praying to whatever god was listening the whole time, hoping that they wouldn't think of detaching my lips from my face. Thankfully, I was spared.

And then they dumped something on my face.

"Oatmeal facial mask," said Pegasus, a dutiful commentator this time. "Very refreshing and invigorating; sucks the oil out of your face, and has fine ingredients to bring out the healthy vigor in your lifeless countenance."

"Oh that's so healthy," I quipped sarcastically, "I expect you'll put oranges on me next time to complete the face diet?" My stomach growled; I haven't had anything yet, unless if you count the milk bath and the oatmeal putty sticking like muck to my face.

"Actually, my boy, it's cucumber we're putting on your eyes."

**.o0o.**

Yami sat unnaturally still. That was because he couldn't move an inch, try as he might to do so. With two cucumbers balanced on either of his eyes along with a soggy oatmeal mask, there seemed to be a lot more: at least half a dozen people flocked around him – two were on his hands, clipping his nails to the proper shape, while another two on his toes. Others were running to and fro, taking Pegasus' orders, bringing items, calling other assistants, while the head beautician examined the young man's tri-colored hair all the while, shrugging his head in dismay.

"Oh this is not good, Yami boy; you have a bad case of dry and unconditioned hair," Pegasus said morosely, eyeing a lock of gold hair on his hands, as if mourning for a dead relative. "You certainly do not know proper hair maintenance! Do you dye your hair regularly?"

Yami grunted in reply. "Yeah I do. Why?" Yet he knew he could sense another woeful statement from the other.

"Did you know that dyeing your hair would only weaken its natural oils to produce a fine coat of sheen to protect your crowning glory from the heat of the sun and other harsh elements? And continuous dyes will only damage it by breaking down the minerals, thus leading to high incidence of split ends, hair breakage, and worse, hair loss!" He let out a cracked and anguished sob.

Yami, even with his eyes closed, rolled his eyes in annoyance. 'It's not like my hair's a goner,' he thought. "Look, Pegasus, I don't care." He felt a hard tug pulling at his hair. "Ow, and stop touching my hair, dammit! My hair will stay the same, thank you very much, and I certainly do not need your divine intervention to fix it."

Then he heard sounds of snipping scissors. Instinctively, Yami sat straight, letting the cucumber drop off from his eyes, which gave the most insolent stare his ill will could muster. "NO! DIDN'T I TELL YOU **NOT **TO TOUCH MY HAIR?"

Pegasus threw off the glare nonchalantly. "Orders, Yami boy. Kaiba boy's strictest orders; it must be followed to the letter." He grabbed a fistful of hair and sheared a little length, his eyes watching the fallen wisps of multi-colored hair drift down to the floor. "He specifically said that I dye your hair back to its original color, and trim some edges."

**.o0o.**

My hair. Look at what they've done to my hair…

I watched sickeningly as Pegasus supervised his servants, who were heaving huge dollops of black henna on my head, the slick solution mixing with my hair, slowly eating away the battling colors of violet, red, and black that I love so much. It took me years to perfect that balanced blend! And then some stupid Kaiba along with a gay freakshow waltzed in and ruined it. _Perfect._

Countless of times, I still think that maybe I made a wrong decision. Even if I could see that I was being altered to look like a _woman_, I still could never – for the love of all that is good and benevolent – understand why I am here in the first place. Yes, I _freaking _know there's a deal where I will masquerade as Mokuba's mother, ergo, I am subjected to a little cross-dressing.

But this is just ridiculous.

I almost freaked out when they brought out another strange contraption from hell. So now they're going to probe into my brain! It was like a circular helmet on a stand, which emitted steaming heat to my head, making me look like some perverse dumpling baking in the makeshift sun. I am feeling very hungry, very annoyed, and most pissed off to say the least. And this darn helmet is not helping matters one tiny bit.

I am in Nightmare Phase Three: Baked Hair. (Yes, I am so famished that I am finding my hair absolutely edible at the moment)

**.o0o.**

It almost didn't occur to Yami that he had been staying at the salon for two days. Time seemed so warped out in this place that mere seconds can be hours, and hours infinitely longer. Yami stopped trying to keep on track eventually, lest he commit suicide.

The hair treatment was the longest of all he had to go through, mainly because of Pegasus wanting to resurrect every strand of his damaged hair. Yami had been subjected to numerous tortures time and again, but the feeling of hair being stretched out of his scalp ranked one in his list.

Yami, for the first time that day, was left alone to wait under that "helmet" to finish his hair rebond treatment, while everybody else was out to take a break. He was promptly given a small platter of garden salad, something that he found very disappointing, given that he was ready to gobble anything out of sheer hunger. Pegasus had insisted that he ought to start on a strict diet, if he were to become "Kaiba's mistress" (This statement angered Yami greatly, causing him to upset the machine and break it in the process; Pegasus had to get someone fetch a replacement.)

His anger considerably at a minimum now, he decided to pick a magazine lying haphazardly on the floor. His eyes roved over a number of titles – from gossip to health and lifestyle periodicals (there was a lot on topless men and equally-naked women), finding none that piqued his interest. After burrowing through more publications, he finally spotted one. It was right next to another magazine (with a catchy article title on the cover "More Ice Cream Fun in Bed – How Strawberries and Cream Can Change Your Sex Life Forever")

_Domino People Magazine_. Yami knew this as one of the more respected monthly periodicals that littered around town, his grandfather being a regular reader. On the front cover graced a close-up shot of Seto, a pair of shades perched on top of his sharp nose, blue eyes hardly seen due to the dark tint of the lens. Yet there was no mistaking the annoyed and pronounced frown on his face. Yami thought the picture was curious; more often than not, the magazine's covers are pictures of people who _posed _for the camera, but in Seto's case, it looked like a stolen and candid shot, taken from the periphery and zoomed in at a certain point. Yami soon confirmed his speculation when he caught on the title on the bottom part of the cover – _Secret and Secluded: Seto Kaiba_. Yami flipped it open and looked for the feature article.

_Domino's most enigmatic man continues to wean away from the watchful crowd of spectators. Seto Kaiba's life was more closely-guarded than anyone can imagine, despite the odds of prying eyes that try to decipher his inner self. _

_Being a son of an influential businessman, the late Gozaburo Kaiba, the first and only son instantly became a celebrity in the eyes of the media circle. At twenty years of age, Seto has inherited the large empire left by his father who passed away at an untimely moment…_

Yami went through the intricate details of the young CEO's life, from his childhood, how he was reared to become well versed in almost anything, to his remarkable graduation in one of the most prestigious universities in the world. He turned on to the next page, and found quite a number of pictures – all stolen shots, as if taken from a high vantage point, perhaps a tree. His eyes landed on a picture where Seto walks with a young child – Mokuba – pointing to something in the distance, a smile lingering on his lips, along with a caption provided underneath it: "_Single Parent - Seto Kaiba with four-year old son, Mokuba, in their summer house located outside of the country, away from the comforts of the illustrious Kaiba mansion."_

"Single parent?" Yami said aloud. He read on.

_Seto was seventeen when he fathered a child, in which his family has kept hidden from the public for a period of time. Knowledgeable and wise in a variety of ways, not one of his hard-earned talents prepared Seto to the harsh reality of becoming a parent at such a young age, most especially when his wife passed away soon after Mokuba was born…_

This made Yami stop and think. From deduction, he could draw that the businessman raised the child on his own, but he could not explain where Mokuba's mother comes in. It was as if he was missing a time bubble where this woman would allegedly exist in both the Kaiba's lives. Surely Mokuba must've been more than a little infant when his mother died, for the child seemed to have harbored an intense attachment that most likely occurred in his later years, something not likely to happen if the mother died at childbirth. The article seemed inconsistent.

Noises from outside the door signaled the arrival of Pegasus and his crew. Yami threw the magazine away and picked up a different one, having a little time to act unperturbed and on a pretense of reading quite effectively before the others notice otherwise.

Pegasus raised an eyebrow at his customer, an amused look on his face. "My, my, Yami boy, I never knew you have plans for the Kaiba boy…"

"What?" Yami stared blankly, lowering the magazine to look quizzically at everyone. The assistant named Mermaid pointed at the cover before erupting in a fit of giggles.

On the front was noticeable block-type letters, bold and emphasized: "More Ice Cream Fun in Bed – How Strawberries and Cream Can Change Your Sex Life Forever".

**.o0o.**

Yami was still in a hazy shade of crimson when Seto called at the parlor.

"Having fun?" Yami could easily imagine the smirk on the CEO's face.

"Fuck you, Kaiba," he snapped back with as much venom he could inject in his voice. Apparently, he did not find anything _fun_ at the moment.

"Actually, I was expecting 'thank you', but I guess I wished for too much." The businessman at the other end of the line was unfazed and unaffected by the swearword.

"Look, Kaiba," Yami started, "I understand I'm _compelled _to _crossdress_, which is totally against my better judgement, but this whole makeover shit is just too much! Are you trying to genetically alter me to become a woman?"

A short derisive laugh. "Mutou, I am under the impression that for this whole thing to work, you have to look convincing, otherwise it would be just be a pointless costume party."

"Easy for you to say, because you're not the one undergoing all this crap," Yami retorted. "Why don't you try having your flesh separated from your body so you'll see my point?"

"Mutou, I don't give a damn about your prissy skin sensitivity," said Seto vehemently, abandoning sarcasm. "I will do whatever it takes to make my son happy, even if it means putting up with a pretend-mother like you – "

" – and make me suffer? Oh thanks a lot, Kaiba," Yami cut in abruptly.

"Besides, your little discomfort is well-compensated – a hundred-thousand dollars, incentives, benefits… Mutou, you are a lucky man; be thankful for it."

Yami rolled his eyes. "Is that why you called, Kaiba? Just so you could read the contract to me like a shopping list? Because I remember our deal very well even without you telling me!"

Silence from the other line. "I… called to check up on you," came the reply, hesitant and quite unsure.

Yami fell silent as well. For a few moments there was no exchange of verbal assault from both parties, each one thinking what to say to break the uncomfortable air hanging between them.

It was Seto who first spoke. "Mister Mutou, the limousine will pick you up after an hour." Yami glanced at a wall clock – _3:30_. "Mokuba will be arriving shortly after you get in the mansion, but not before I finished briefing you and the staff about some important reminders.

"I shall be expecting you, Mutou. Good day to you." Click. The line went dead.

Yami turned off the wireless phone, not knowing he gave a sigh that did not go unheard to Pegasus' ears.

"Lover's quarrel?" Pegasus supplied helpfully, grinning.

"Shut up," Yami spat, but not as fierce as before. "Just… go fix my hair," he added grudgingly.

**.o0o.**

After convincing me in a series of persuasive statements that a curling iron was actually harmless, I decided against it and opted that I'd prefer a natural straight hair than a wavy one.

I keep on staring at my reflection for the nth time, telling myself over and over that I am still me, and not some new person – not a woman, least of all. Whatever transformation Pegasus made was effective. My fingers and toes had a curved shape, gleaming with nail polish. (Mermaid said it was "French Tip") My skin was smoother than ever in years, glowing in a shade of light rose. Whether that color was brought about by skinning me alive or the effects of a lotion, I cannot say. And then there was my hair - the once-spiky ensemble that always defined my crowning glory was replaced by falling wisps of black framing my red eyes, the rest of it hanging limply on my shoulders.

You haven't even seen my dress yet, for starters.

With only fifteen minutes left before Kaiba's limo would arrive, I was still struggling hard not to run away and just die. Pegasus was holding something that I would never dream of wearing.

"What's wrong with this bra?" he asked innocently.

**.o0o.**

"What's wrong with that bra? _I find it really perfect, you gay beautician!_" Yami yelled sarcastically, eyes never leaving the undergarment.

"Which is why you'll have the honor of wearing it, my boy!" The serene smile in his face was disturbing Yami. Pegasus swayed it playfully at him for an added effect.

"You're enjoying this, aren't you, you bastard!"

"Now, now, you mustn't misinterpret things," Pegasus started, "In order for the cocoon to emerge as a full-fledged butterfly, this is the only thing you must do." He swayed the brassiere yet again.

"Nice use of metaphors, Pegasus," shot Yami hotly, "How about this literal statement: go to hell!"

"Not until I strap this beauty on you."

Yami cursed incorrigibly while struggling to break free from the assistants on either of his side. "Is there any other way to deal with this!"

Pegasus stopped, and shifted his eyes upward, thinking. "How about if I inject you with estrogen or surgically implant you a silicon pair of boobs?"

Silence.

Yami snatched the bra from the beautician's hands and stomped off to the dressing room.

**.o0o.**

I emerged out of the dressing room with the most dreaded look that I made in all my years of existence. Why? I was wearing a cream bra with some silicon padding to make out some boobs in my otherwise-flat chest, along with a dress no self-respecting man would even think of wearing.

And Pegasus and his staff were beaming at me like proud mothers, as if I were a teenager celebrating my eighteenth birthday.

"Yami boy, I am so proud of this accomplishment, believe me!" Pegasus gushed, seizing my hand and holding it close to his cheek. I cringed in silent revulsion, my eye twitching threateningly. Thankfully, he got the message and let go of it before I do real damage to his physical form.

Right on cue, the limousine turned up after a few minutes. The same round of guards came to fetch me once again. I wobbled uneasily as I walked; these high-heeled shoes are the stuff of nightmares. Mermaid had to assist me out to the front door to prevent me from falling unnecessarily.

Asano, Kaiba's head honcho, stared at me as if I sprouted an extra hand.

"Don't even start on me, Asano." I held up a threatening finger (French-tipped, I might add) at him. "Let's just get this over with."

"Ye—yes, sir… uhm… ma'am… uh…"

I fumed so badly that I mistook a step down, sending me crashing butt first on the pavement.

Fucking shoes.

**.o0o.**

The sight of the tall gates of the Kaiba Mansion weakened Yami's knees. The air inside the limousine was something of an odd mix – torn between awe and disbelief. Most of Seto's guards kept on throwing curious glances at him, which did not help alleviate Yami's unease. His rear still ached from the magnificent fall, but he had too many things to complain to know where to begin.

The car slowed down to a stop in front of the main door of the house. Now Yami's gut continued to swirl ominously. 'Okay, Yami…_breathe_…,' he rasped in his thoughts, trying to put some level of control on himself.

From the window of the limousine, Yami could make out Seto waiting outside, poised and stiff, the authority in his stance palpable even at that distance.

The guards got out first. Yami didn't mind; if anything, he just wanted to stay inside the car, dig a hole, and be gone. Sadly, he couldn't.

Having intense difficulty with the skirt he's wearing, he eased out his right leg first before standing up to full height. Instantly, he could feel a pair of clear blue eyes staring unblinkingly at him.

**.o0o.**

Stop. Looking. At. Me. Like. That.

Kaiba was _clearly gawking _at me like I was some sort of circus animal. I wish he would just quit doing that because it's starting to annoy me.

I walked up the stairs with terrible balance. How is it that women don't seem to feel the least bit awkward when they're wearing this? I found Tea running around in these kinds of shoes, and I still do not understand how she managed to do that.

"Well, you could stop ogling at me Kaiba; it's not healthy," I snapped as my feet finally met level ground. I stared at him, my eyes following his line of sight.

Is he staring at my boobs?

"Kaiba…" I started; my eyes now slanted in suspicion. Does he have some sort of boob fetish?

Kaiba must've realized that he was blatantly staring, so he cleared his throat and looked away, trying his best to maintain his sovereignty and aloofness. I put my hands on my hips, and tapped my foot impatiently for an added effect. "Well? What have you got to say for yourself? Did that faggot do his job pretty well or what?"

Kaiba stole a glance at me, and then looked away, a faint hint of red in his ears.

Then he said, "Your breasts aren't aligned."


	6. Madame

**Mother Figure by Aoi Rakuen**

A/N: Woot! I am very happy that you liked the previous chappie! XD

Again, I apologize for the lateness. Schoolwork caught up on me, and it was freaking me out, to be honest. :cries: I was basically writing it bit by bit (an average of one word per day…good grief!) until I finally finished. Again, I AM VERY SORRY! TT--TT

**Thanks to all my reviewers!** Special mention goes to **mechante fille**, who gave me a really great suggestion and went all out to e-mail me and tell me what's on her mind! Thanks a bunch, Mich! ;p

This is my first fanfic here; so do tell me what you think of it!

Yu-Gi-Oh is a legal property of Kazuki Takahashi, and other big names. It's not mine. Don't sue me.

Some words of caution, though: If you're a yaoi-hater and not so keen on Prideshipping, this story isn't for you. I am a S/Y fan all the way, and personally, they're a pairing that makes a whole lot of sense when you read anything on the series and manga, despite the latter's lack of feeling and depth. Pfft, what the hell. :D

**SUMMARY**: YGO AU FIC. What if you're paid to be the mother of a billionaire's son? But what if you're a MAN? Yami goes through this life-changing situation when he strikes a deal with CEO Seto Kaiba. Read and Review! XD

"…" – spoken dialogue

'…' – thoughts; sometimes come _italicized_.

**.o0o.**

**Chapter Six – Madame**

'Your breasts aren't aligned.' Just what kind of comment is that?

I swear Kaiba just plain SUCKS when it comes to pick-up lines.

I looked down on my artificial chests, and tried to fix whatever boob-fetish Kaiba had noticed. It was an AWFULLY WEIRD sight: me standing in front of Kaiba, fixing this pathetic excuse of a breast, like it was the most logical thing to do at the moment. Though frankly, none of us found it comforting. On the contrary, the experience was very unsettling, uncomfortable to say the least. Add disturbing to that too.

Kaiba cleared his throat, making me shift my eyes back on him. Thankfully, he wasn't gawking at me anymore.

"To my office," he said curtly as he turned his heels and walked inside the house. I frowned a little, unsure of what to say or feel at the moment. Still having that amazing difficulty with the high-heeled shoes, I walked rather uncertainly, my steps echoing through the marble floors.

There is no way in hell I'm going to ask Kaiba for any assistance. No friggin' way.

**.o0o.**

"Sit up straight. And do you mind not spreading your legs far apart?"

Yami grudgingly followed the businessman's orders. Having been offered a seat a little while ago, Yami plopped down to it with great relief, enabling the circulation of his blood return to his toes. Yet still the man that he is (he's only in a dress), he sat like one, which attracted Seto's attention for two highly possible reasons:

A woman shouldn't sit down like that.

Or Seto found it very hard to concentrate with a pair of nice supple legs peeking out from an impressively short sundress.

"You are in a dress, Mutou, and in a skimpy one at that. You ought to show a little discretion, especially in front of me." Seto sat imperiously on his black leather throne, his eyes staring from across the table at other man, who scowled openly at him.

"I've been a man all my life, Kaiba, in case you haven't noticed. Do you expect me to know the do's and don'ts of women in one sitting?" Yami snapped back. More than an hour ago, Pegasus and his staff began giving out advises to him with regard to "how a woman should present herself" and "how to stay beautiful" like an overzealous mother running after her child with a lunchbox and a litany of lectures in tow. _"Comb your hair regularly – a hundred strokes ought to do the trick!"; "Wash your face always – and don't forget to moisturize!"; "Always apply that night cream I gave you!"; "Don't walk like a thug; walk with finesse!"… _the list went on, each tip increasingly unbelievable than the last.

"Well, my son will be arriving shortly, so you – " Seto held out a threatening finger at Yami, " –bring out whatever goddamn feminine side you have in your veins and act the part, even if it kills you."

Yami could easily sense an almost desperate hint hiding behind the cold and menacing tone from the businessman. Yet he did not choose to air out his concern; the reason both men are still playing along this perverse trade is for the happiness of their loved ones – Mokuba and Yugi, respectively. Yami felt it wise to keep his mouth shut, and focused on crossing his legs properly instead.

He stared at his polished fingernails, bringing it close to his face to scrutinize it, checking if he had already broken a nail or two. "So…what now?" he blurted out.

Seto couldn't help but let out a sigh. Even he was thinking among the same lines. The moment he had formulated the plan, he knew what to expect and anticipate; he knew what was there to take into consideration, and in turn, lowered the chances of failure. He had successfully dealt with someone to masquerade as Mokuba's mother against all uncertainties; he had ordered a preemptive transformation and it had gone rather smoothly.

And now both of them were sitting across each other. Seto knew what to do next; it was like a feverish mantra that kept on relaying the same process, over and over, until the CEO could chant the whole of it even in his sleep.

And yet…

"By virtue of our deal, we have reached a common consent that you be a mother to my son, Mokuba, and would therefore be given full responsibility and accountability as what a mother would do to her child. You are thus expected to carry out your duties and obligations accordingly, but with discretion and prior notice to me.

"Mokuba should never know the nature of our agreement, let alone who you are, so I advise you to think as many times as you can before you act; we are sitting on the edge of reason, Mutou, just by the fact that we consented upon this whole arrangement, which is against our better judgement. As much as I hate lying to my own son, your identity must not be known to anyone other than myself and a few others. I –"

"A few others? You call Pegasus and his gay squadron 'a few others'?" Yami cried out, suddenly feeling nervous. "They're not the type who liked to sit in the corner while I pretend to be a woman for the whole world to see, now can I?"

"I admit that is a little lapse in my decision, but I do not have more available options. The reason I could feel close to certain that Pegasus wouldn't sing like a canary goes to my intuition."

"Well, your intuition sucks."

"Mutou, the last thing on my mind right now is to worry about Pegasus' rumor mongering streak, understand? What I am after is how you ought to deliver your job as Mokuba's mother."

Yami fell silent. 'This plan of yours sounds like a quick detour to hell,' he thought. Seto was almost always the front of newspaper headlines; there's no one in this planet who doesn't know his name. Imagine if a massive information leakage seeped through the mainstream media about this deal – what would happen then?

Seto continued to on. "Yami Mutou, from this day forth until the termination of our contract, you are given all rights and privileges as a Kaiba family member, in the most legal sense of the word. You are bound to me as I am to you, all under the jurisdiction encompassing our contract. Is that clear?"

"Yes Father I do," Yami quipped in his near-mockery of a woman's voice. "Shall I kiss you know so we get to be husband and wife?" Seto's wordings sounded strangely like a matrimonial rite of passage.

"Funny." Seto did not even twitch the slightest.

**.o0o.**

Seto now stood up from where he sat and made his way toward the door. "Follow me," he said, beckoning the other to join him out.

Cursing his luck for scoring a nasty pair of shoes (and a sundress to boot), Yami grudgingly emerged from his chair. "Where are we going now?"

"To meet my staff," came a succinct reply. "For some important reminders and rules on proper protocol."

Whatever objection forming in Yami's lips, he did not speak it out until he was certain. Clearly this "staff" the host was talking about pertained to Seto's more-than-a-dozen maids, twenty gardeners, ten butlers, and a hundred guards that were all employed under him.

"A little FYI, Mutou: The Kaiba Mansion houses thirty full-time maids, four butlers, five round-the-clock chefs, ten landscape gardeners, three ranch-keepers, seven auto-mechanics, and twenty specially-appointed guards handpicked from Domino Naval Command," Seto said without fail, all the while feeling smug about his prided employees. "Needless to say, I hire the best in the business."

"Sounds like a lot of number to me, trusting them all with our 'little secret'," said Yami as he scowled at the crystal window bedecked with blue velveteen curtains, before finally setting his crimson eyes at the businessman.

"Whoever said we're going to tell them?"

Yami fell silent, preferring to stare at the surroundings of his new home. Certainly it was a whole lot bigger than his house, and was definitely far more extravagant. Marble walls of cream gleamed and sparkled like it had never gotten old, along with resplendent pillars that stood silently in the corners. Beneath his feet lay a seemingly endless brocade of pristine blue-and-ecru carpet, muffling the sound of his merciless high heels.

They passed by dozens of expensive paintings that hung on the wall, none of which the young man recognized. Not that he needed to; everything in this mansion was bound to be worth more than a thousand dollars.

Keen to observe the other's interest albeit confusion, Seto was dutiful enough to provide a brief commentary as they walked past sculptures and other works of art. "That jade engraving was from my trip to Japan; a gift from the Prime Minister. That pathetic excuse of a doodle happened to belong to a contemporary painter named Klaine (1); I don't know what made me buy that scrap. This iron mask is by Chal Del Ray. That bronze puzzle is from the eccentric Marquis. I think I should have that bust removed from here…" From anyone else's mouth it would have seemed like bragging, but the famous names were dropped with an almost weary tone, as if saying that all these lavish possessions were really of little account.

"That was…uh, _enriching_." Yami barely managed to utter an adjective in time. "You collect all these?"

"Art, after a certain period of time, appreciates to a mark-up of more than two hundred percent," Seto replied simply, not quite proud of his otherwise-extravagant collection. "It is quite desirable to keep them as an investment to auction to more avid collectors at a later time."

'Businessmen,' Yami thought in mild distaste, 'they never change.'

They continued their tour of the expansive mansion. Yami gave up too easily after trying to memorize his bearings; there were so many rooms with inner chambers; foyers that led into more hallways; balconies that wind up to emerald labyrinthine gardens… 'How could someone get around here without getting lost?'

"Every nook and cranny is hard-wired to an extensive security system that can rival that of the Domino Military." Seto vaguely pointed to a hardly-perceptible optic lens tucked in the corner of the wall. "Electronic eyes shall be watching every one's move."

"Seems quite a lot for just a house," commented the newcomer, "Am I in a military settlement or what?"

Seto smirked. "This, Mutou, is how I ensure the utmost secrecy and containment among my employees."

Yami wasn't so sure as to how he should react, but he didn't have the ample chance; it seemed that they have finally reached their destination. He watched as a uniformed servant (no doubt a butler) bowed briefly before them before grabbing hold of a brass handle and opening the mahogany door.

**.o0o.**

When I was about four years old, our class had one of those school plays where kids were bullied into doing something embarrassing for the sick amusement of their parents perpetrated by bored schoolteachers. The play was about some ants and grasshoppers fighting over the coming of some god-forsaken rainy day. I remembered I was chosen to be the evil grasshopper that gets to kick the ants' collective asses. Back then, I possessed absolutely NO talent in performing in front of a huge crowd. I stood stock still as a statue; whatever lines I had committed to memory evaporated at that single instant. For a whole minute I simply gaped at the audience before finally collapsing to the floor.

I felt like doing it again.

Before me was what Kaiba had described to me earlier: thirty full-time maids, four butlers, six around-the-clock chefs, ten landscape gardeners, three ranch-keepers, seven auto-mechanics, and twenty specially-appointed guards handpicked from Domino Naval Command. All for a grand total of seventy men and women of varying shapes, sizes, nationalities…

"My son shall be arriving soon, so I will have to make this quick." Kaiba decided to cut the chase. Apparently, we don't have the luxury of time to begin with.

I almost cried in surprise when his hand dropped to my shoulder, and in turn, pulled me closer. "She is Mokuba's mother, and she shall stay that way in your cumulative perception. You are subjected to obey her as a mistress of this household. No one shall question her and her decisions; otherwise you are all answerable to me.

"You must address her '_Madame'_ or '_Ma'am' _at all times, with utmost respect and deference. You must keep a respectable distance when talking to her. You shall not talk to her unless she talks to you, in which case you give as much as you can deliver, all with proper prudence, but not to the extent of divulging unnecessary information…"

I listened to what the Kaiba had to order his minions, which I think was one big pitiful affair. The nerve of that jerk! He was actually telling everyone to stay away from me like I was some foreign disease-carrying agent! He was making me look like I was a tyrannical ruler with no balls to do anything! He was ordering them to call me MADAME! All in front of me!

Okay, I know that the part where they have to follow me to my every bidding sounds like a lot of fun, but frankly, Kaiba is making too much of a big deal out of this whole thing. It was as if he was setting up an immense barrier between me and the workers – like heaven to hell.

And Kaiba's calling me a "she"!

What…the…fuck…

**.o0o.**

With a flurry of movement, everyone practically fled to their stations, acting as if nothing had transpired; as if there wasn't an important meeting that took place; as if it was just one fine sunny day at the Kaiba Mansion.

Seto watched as a black limousine stopped in front of him, the chauffeur emerging first to open the door to the back, revealing a young child clad in navy blue uniform, who stepped out rather timidly.

Mokuba Kaiba stared momentarily at his father, quite surprised to see him waiting for his arrival, apart from the fact that it was only in the afternoon; Mokuba had only dinnertime to be with his busy parent, along with a few reluctant holidays. He let out a smile. "Daddy!" he said with feeling as he dashed up to hug his father.

"You're early, daddy," he said as he broke away from the embrace. "Is something the matter?"

"Everything's fine, Mokuba, don't worry," assured the elder Kaiba as he proceeded to pat the child's head. "In fact, I have a surprise that you will really like."

"A surprise? Wow!" Mokuba's laden gray eyes twinkled. "What is it, Daddy?"

"Look behind me."

Tilting his head to look past his father's shoulder, Mokuba saw a wonderful vision.

**.o0o.**

Not knowing what to do, I rose up a hand and gave a timid wave. The effect was immediate; Mokuba bounded happily past his father, arms wide open.

"MOMMY!"

"Oof." Before I knew it, Mokuba had almost tackled me, his head buried deeply on my stomach. "Mommy, you're back! I'm so glad!"

I smiled, and brought my hands to rest on his hair and on his back. "How…are you, Mokuba?" I asked in the best girly voice I could muster. Thankfully, I have a pretty neutral voice (2) – not so feminine, not so masculine. Is that supposed to be a blessing, or am I just _too _androgynous for my own freakin' good?

I looked at Kaiba and saw him eyeing me with a different look. He wasn't glaring, nor was he gawking, as if he was seeing me for the first time. I stared at him quizzically in reply, and that odd look vanished at once. This time, he gave me a remember-what-we-talked-about look before turning to Mokuba.

"Mokuba, why don't you show Mommy around?" he asked as he patted his son's shoulder.

"Won't you come with us, Daddy?" the kid broke away from me and faced Kaiba. (I was starting to get dizzy from lack of air)

"I have to go back to work," Kaiba said. "I will be back later, okay? Until then, Mommy's going to keep you company."

"Okay!"

Kaiba turned his heel and walked away from us, motioning to the driver to open the door of his limo. The engine revved moments later, and the car drove off. Mokuba and me stood silently for a while. The kid broke the silence.

"Let's go inside, Mommy!"

I allowed myself to be dragged by my eager charge, still hardly believing that I am now his mom.

**TBC**

**Footnotes: (1)** Klaine IS a GREAT ARTIST! Check out her Deviant Art account to see what I mean! (http colon slash slash mooguriklaine dot deviant art dot com) – can't make the actual URL appear so I have to result to this! She gets to beta my chappies, and I love her so!

**(2) **This voice I was talking about was the original Japanese YGO, where Yami's seiyuu (voice actor) is a girl named Megumi Ogata! The American voice was WAY too far from the Japanese; the former was just TOO testosterone-charged while the latter was mellow and sweet! Waaiii::falls in love: Megumi Ogata also supplied the voices of Youko Kurama from Yuyu Hakusho, Kaoru Nagisa from Evangelion, Yukito from Card Captor Sakura, and others:D

**Author's Notes: **Ehehe, this chappy's quite short, mainly because I split it into two. This one's pretty boring too, so I'm sorry for that… Next installment promises a bit of fluff between Yami and Seto, and perhaps more comedy! So hang on tight! In the meantime, **leave me a review and make me happy**! XD

**Question to ponder: **

"Sit up straight. And do you mind not spreading your legs far apart?"

Yami grudgingly followed the businessman's orders. Having been offered a seat a little while ago, Yami plopped down to it with great relief, enabling the circulation of his blood return to his toes. Yet still the man that he is (he's only in a dress), he sat like one, which attracted Seto's attention for two highly possible reasons:

A woman shouldn't sit down like that.

Or Seto found it very hard to concentrate with a pair of nice supple legs peeking out from an impressively short sundress.

**Which, do you think, is the highly likely reason? **Tell me your thoughts and more through a review! XD

Anyhow, I'll update as soon as I can:D

Thanks for reading!

Aoi Rakuen 


	7. Too Much Everything

**Mother Figure by Aoi Rakuen**

A/N: **Thanks for the 100 plus reviews**:celebrates:group hug: Hehe, I personally never thought I would elicit this much from you, since I played around a crazy concept (Yami being thought of as a woman, least of all, a mother IS A CRAZY notion in itself XD)! But I'm very glad you received it well! My fic would never be the same without you guys:tears of joy: For making it happen, **thanks a lot**!

There are some reviews that asked me questions, and also those who gave me their opinions and I feel very dutiful to answer them, so as not to leave them wondering in the dark. XD Though I couldn't possibly reply to them all (it would take up too much space ;P), I will try my best to accommodate you as I can! XD Further questions and suggestions are very much appreciated, so you could tell me that through a review or you could email me (aoi underscore rakuen at yahoo dot com)

:nod: Overwhelming responses from last chap's question! I quote **Cor-chan**: "It's the legs! The LEGS!" Hai, everyone's got to take a load of Yami's legs in the manga and the series…:drool: **Hakudoshi-chan **makes perfect sense too: If Kaiba noticed the crooked breasts, he's definitely going to notice those lovely legs as well! XD wooot! **Desidera**, however, went for **both choices**:laughs:

I extend my amusement to **Shy**, a consistent reviewer with an equally consistent voice! Woot! Her review is not complete without that hesitant and shy tone! I love it! Thanks:D

So when will Seto and Yami have to act as a couple? This is one roller coaster ride; and I want you to be there when that happens! **SO RIDE WITH ME! XD**

Is it just me, or something's wrong with fanfiction dot net:looks around: My transition symbols were entirely obliterated by the freaking Document Manager, and whatever remedy I try to do, IT JUST WON'T WORK! Arrgh! Help me:sweatdrop:

**.o0o.**

This is my first fanfic here; so do tell me what you think of it!

Yu-Gi-Oh is a legal property of Kazuki Takahashi, and other big names. It's not mine. Don't sue me.

Some words of caution, though: If you're a yaoi-hater and not so keen on Prideshipping, this story isn't for you. I am a S/Y fan all the way, and personally, they're a pairing that makes a whole lot of sense when you read anything on the series and manga, despite the latter's lack of feeling and depth. Pfft, what the hell. :D

**SUMMARY**: YGO AU FIC. What if you're paid to be the mother of a billionaire's son? But what if you're a MAN? Yami goes through this life-changing situation when he strikes a deal with CEO Seto Kaiba. Read and Review! XD

"…" – spoken dialogue

'…' – thoughts; sometimes come _italicized_.

**.o0o.**

**Chapter Seven: Too Much Everything**

"To your right is the drawing room; straight ahead is the second foyer; and then not far away is the tea room and the balcony. All floors have one, by the way…"

My brain is suffering from information overload. I tried to absorb the new bout of data being mercilessly force-fed into me. I haven't even gotten around to memorize the layout of the first floor when I was dragged by the energetic Mokuba to the next floor, and the next…

In my most honest opinion, a house isn't supposed to be like this. There are just… too many rooms, too many servants, too many pricey stuff, too many furniture. TOO MANY EVERYTHING. Argh. What in the world is a drawing room? Is it really vital to the survival and perpetration of the Kaiba family line? And to think what I really wanted in a house is a living room, a kitchen, and a bedroom. But a drawing room! Pff, ridiculous. Kaiba's just wasting a lot of money.

Plus, my shoes AREN'T HELPING in my plight. Two-inch high heels used to tour THE WHOLE OF KAIBA MANSION! You HAVE GOT to BE KIDDING ME! I don't care how expensive this shit is; I'll throw it when I get the chance.

And then there was the little Kaiba. I've never seen him this lively, not even in his tenth birthday party. I guess he was that happy to see me…

Correction. His mother.

"This place is so big, Mokuba, I think I won't be able to remember all the rooms," I said in my most pleasant voice, ignoring my blistering toes, even adding a demure laugh to make it sound very natural. Argh, this is not me, dammit.

Mokuba stopped to look at me curiously. "But you memorized them already, Mommy. We used to play hide-and-seek, remember?"

Oops.

"Oh, how silly of me!" I hastily tried to cover up my obvious mistake. How in the name of Hell was I supposed to know that? Kaiba seemed keen to avoid the whole business about Mokuba's mother; he didn't even give me pertinent information about her – how she talks, how she walks, how she eats, how she beats him up (I was really hoping to know that) – but he gave nothing. Nada. I'm not meaning I'm going to follow it to the letter, but at least I'd have some sort of basis… "It's because I've been away for a long time that I forgot how this place looks like." I stared at Mokuba, hoping against all odds that he'd buy it.

He smiled. "That's okay!"

Whew. Safe.

"I got an idea, mommy! Why don't we play hide-and-seek to refresh your memory?"

**…**

**.o0o.**

Playing hide-and-seek in this house is a waking nightmare. Believe me when I say it. A hundred million rooms, give or take a few thousand. I haven't even counted what was outside the mansion – the ranch, the gardens, the Hell-knows-what. Okay, I'm already exaggerating, but you get the idea. I obviously doubted Mokuba's mother (whoever and wherever she is) on how she managed to memorize the whole layout of this monstrosity.

Mommy Kaiba was always "it" in this game, now I realized. Got to find Mokuba after counting to thirty.

Mokuba found me lying, spent and wasted somewhere in the second floor.

"Mommy, are you all right?" Mokuba's face swam in and out of focus as I gingerly opened my eyes. I rolled to my side; I didn't bother answering. I don't think I could bring myself to utter a syllable. I'm just so tired.

There was a long moment of silence. I was about to fall asleep when I heard short sniffles behind me. I hastily sat up to face Mokuba, who was – oh Holy God - _crying_.

Time to panic.

"Mo..Mokuba!" I stuttered. I glanced left and right warily, hoping not one of Kaiba's "thirty full-time maids, four butlers, five round-the-clock chefs, ten landscape gardeners, three ranch-keepers, seven auto-mechanics, and twenty specially-appointed guards" (or Kaiba himself, least of all) was around to see this. Thankfully, there was none.

"Wh-what's wrong?" Believe me, Yugi gets sudden bursts of temper tantrums and abrupt crying spree, but I can handle him just fine. Mokuba is a different case to deal with.

"M-m-mommy…doesn't…want…to-to…play…with…me anymore…" Mokuba stammered, lips quivering, eyes watering. Then I watch in horror as his soft cries escalated to a low mournful dirge, and then going full-throttle to a high-pitch wail.

"WAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!" we cried in unison.

**.o0o.**

After a long series of warm hugs, comforting words, and melodramatic apologies,(again, this is so NOT me) Mokuba finally calmed down considerably, and was now in a better fix. This gave me ample time to make a good diversion – anything to make him forget the hide-and-seek – by offering him to take a break. It was almost time for dinner.

"But we'll play after dinner, won't we?" he asked.

"Uhm, Mokuba dear, I don't think we would be able to," I started. Seeing Mokuba's crestfallen face, I quickly added, "Remember? Mommy's tired from the long journey, and I would like to get a good night's rest to look after you the next day.

"Plus, you still have school tomorrow. You shouldn't be tiring yourself too much." Oh PLEASE buy that lame-ass alibi…

Mokuba seemed to consider for a moment. "Okay," he said, and then he smiled at me. "Anything for you, Mommy!"

I couldn't help but smile as well. "How 'bout that dinner?"

**.o0o.**

The dining HALL – not ROOM, mind you – was perhaps one of the more lavish places here in the Kaiba Mansion. Crystal chandeliers sparkled overhead, throwing light on the more expensive paintings, sculptures, and other clutter. A meticulous crocheted cloth emphasized the long table that sat in the middle of the big room. Already, there were a couple of servants that waited upon our arrival, all bearing trays and trolleys, alert and rapt with attention. I almost let out a low whistle. What an efficient staff Kaiba's got.

"Good evening, Madame," they said in chorus as they bowed. My right eye twitched unconsciously. That "Madame" part gave me the creeps. They greeted Mokuba next, bowing all the same, addressing him, "young master". Again, creepy.

Actually remembering that I wasn't properly fed by that faggot Pegasus, I walked eagerly towards the table, not really caring about my aching feet, keen to get started eating. I motioned towards the chair to sit, but a pair of hands seized it for me, inching it backwards to make room for me. Dumbstruck at first, I quickly caught on and sat down, and muttered "thanks" to the butler. He bowed down and resumed to his post. Weird, really, if you ask me.

As I sat, I barely recognized what was in front of me. Sure, I saw a plate and a glass, but there are so many other strange items laden on the table. To the right of my plate were at least four different types of spoon; to my left, forks in a variety of prongs and whatnot. And then there was more: knives upon other species of knives (were that possible, I just don't know), bowls faring the same… What the hell is a hammer doing here? (1) This is just one of those prime examples of TOO MUCH EVERYTHING I was talking about. I couldn't even begin thinking where or what or WHO was I to use these utensils on. Maybe gouge Kaiba's eyeballs out or something.

And speaking of Kaiba…

"Where's Kai – uh – _Seto_?" I asked. Eurgh. Seto? The name sounded foreign to my palate.

"Mister Kaiba will be coming home late, well after dinner, Madame," said the butler while he bowed.

"I see…" I scolded myself. Why see it only now? I think it was pretty obvious he's got work. Not my business looking for him after all.

"Daddy rarely gets home early," Mokuba said. "When he does, he goes straight to his office upstairs and works some more." I gazed at Mokuba, and saw a flicker of emotion – sad pale blue eyes – and I couldn't help but feel pity for the kid.

But the sadness in his eyes quickly disappeared; Mokuba now looked much eager to start. He cleared his throat. "Let's pray, Mommy!"

I watched with interest as he held his hand together and closed his eyes. "Lord, thank you for bringing Mommy back to us. I am very happy she is here, and I hope Daddy is too. Thank you for this first nice dinner in a long while. I hope Daddy will join us some time. Amen!"

Mokuba smiled at me, and I returned him the same. Whoa, that was a pretty loaded prayer that kid has. "I hope Daddy is too" sounded like a juicy scandal that may have transpired some time ago. A big marital fall-out, perhaps? "First nice dinner in a long while" meant the kid had been eating alone in this large table for years or so. Poor child.

I blinked back tears; Yugi was probably eating alone too back in our house.

"Are you crying, Mommy?"

I shrugged. "It's okay, Mokuba. I'm just happy to see you again." I picked up my spoon and fork (the most basic ones in the set), and clacked them with gusto. "Shall we?"

As if on cue, there was a flurry of movement, and the servants started swarming on us, setting down some plates and more plates. By the time it had subsided, a steaming bowl of hot soup was waiting on top of my plate.

"Appetizer, Madame. Bird's Nest Soup." The butler provided me the answer that I was looking for, clearly reading my mind.

"Bird's…Nest…?" I asked apprehensively. What kind of sick chef cooks birds' nests?

"One of the most expensive gourmet delicacies in the world, Madame," replied the old man. "Found in one of the more exotic islands in Asia, from an equally-rare bird. One serving costs more than five thousand dollars." (2)

I almost spit out the soup. WHAT! FIVE GRAND PER SERVING! Does that god-forsaken bird shit gold or something to be this freaking expensive?

"If you don't like it Madame, we could have the chef cook another and throw this one…"

"No, no, that's hardly necessary," I muttered hurriedly. Five grand down the drain? No thanks. I resumed to finishing the soup.

Next was the main course. This time, I was given a menu to choose from four different meals. Apart from the fact that it was a waste of money (think of all that pricey ingredients to make just _one_), it was highly impractical – why make four meals when only one was to be selected? This is still a house, not some fine dining restaurant.

Still the hungry man that I am, I almost forgot my place when I took the first bite of my chosen meal (it was in French; I couldn't pronounce it). Adjectives failed me here; it was that delicious. I ran out of rice; I made a move to reach it, but a hand got it for me, scooped some onto my plate, and bowed before stalking off. All in a matter of seconds.

A few minutes later, I realized that I needed some pepper to spice up the dish. I looked around a little, and found it a few inches away from Mokuba. "Mokuba, could you pass me the pepper?"

Without even waiting for him to retrieve the pepper, another servant approached and handed me the small canister, bowed down, and disappeared at the back.

Even as I turned to my drinks, I was hindered by another maid, asking me what sort of drink I would like. It was a mistake to ask what drinks were available. My head was already spinning from all the drinks she was citing – tropical punch, strawberry, seven subspecies of mango, pineapple, guava…

"Just water, thank you," I said wearily.

By the time desert was served, I was growing tired, exasperated, and pissed at the servants. Rather than making my life easy, they're turning it into a living hell. What's worse – if that were possible – is that they don't seem to be getting the hint that I don't need any help. They kept on bowing endlessly; they kept on calling me "Madame"; they kept on butting in…

You wouldn't believe what kind of self-restraint I put up just to survive the otherwise-relaxing dinner.

All in all, the dinner process was a sequence of orders, fast service (albeit annoying), and more exasperating bows. To me, it was all a waste of time, and a screaming proof how lazy that Kaiba git is – imagine having someone to get you seated on a chair, get your rice, serve your food, put drinks in your glass – tasks, which I think (the same goes to all of you out there reading) any human being can do just fine and without aid from others. This led me to think that there must be someone in this house committed to wipe Kaiba's ass.

Though I won't deny that the food was most scrumptious at best.

**.o0o.**

We emerged out of the dining hall quite fulfilled and satiated. Mokuba seemed to be feeling happier than ever as he held my hand. I didn't complain; right now, I feel sleepy from all that food.

"Where to now, Mokuba?" I asked.

"You used to call me Mokie, Mommy," he said.

Mokie? What kind of nickname is that? Sounds like some weird organism to me. "Okay…_Mokie_, I think it's time that I tuck you to bed."

"Aww, so soon?" he pouted. Argh, he even pouts like Yugi in some way. I pinched him lovingly.

"School tomorrow, remember?" Besides, I'm tired out of my wits. I want a nice shower. I want bed rest.

It took us some time to reach Mokuba's room, mainly because he gave me another bout of informative tour of the Kaiba house. Though I think he was doing this to stall time, but I'm all for it, so no harm done.

This made me think of my sleeping quarters.

"So where will I be sleeping?" I mused, staring at all the vacant rooms the mansion has to offer. That soothing bath… that soft bed and pillow…

"Beside Daddy, where else?" Mokuba said, bemused, clearly not expecting my question.

I couldn't blame the kid; I think I was giving off the most bewildered stare in all my years of existence.

TBC 

**.o0o. **

**Footnotes**: **(1)** Correct me if I'm wrong; I think there is a hammer (a mallet, actually) used to crack open shells of crabs, etc. included in some of the dining table set-ups. I'm not that certain, 'cause what we only have in our place was a plate, spoon and fork, and a glass… XD

**(2)** Bird's Nest – yes, one of the most expensive foods in the face of the planet. I'm not sure where in Asia does this bird lives, so I leave it up to your imagination. Not sure about the price per serving…it could be a lot more pricey, but five grand is still expensive for a lame-ass soup. XD

**Author's Notes**: Bedroom blues, and more Kaiba Mansion misadventures await our hero/ine Yami! How will he cope with the maids? How will he survive every night with Seto? How will he manage his "son" Mokuba? Where is the kitchen? XD

Tell me your sentiments, comments, violent reactions, and others through a **REVIEW**! I will love you for it:blows kisses:

I hope you liked what I did in this chapter. The reason it was made into a new chapter altogether was it consisted of Yami's opinions, something I deemed important. Since he was experiencing all of this first-hand (and first time, no less XD), it would be better if I used first person POV all the way. I hope Yami's character was okay here … :crosses fingers and awaits your opinions: XD

Succeeding chapters will revert to the mixed POV…and perhaps include SETO… afufufufu :evil laugh: I wonder what's Kaiba have to say in this situation? XD

**A NEW QUESTION! **If you were in that dining hall, what would you feel? XD :imagines all those servants:shudders: XD Tell me through a **REVIEW**! XD

Thanks for reading!

**Aoi Rakuen **


	8. Of Pink Pajamas and Good Night

**Mother Figure by Aoi Rakuen **

A/N: You guys are the best:group hug: I received good feedback from all of you, and needless to say, I am very ecstatic that you'll still stick with me all the way! Woot! XD :throws a lot of confetti: I cannot wait for the developments to arise!

Suddenly I feel like replying on almost all of you reviewers! I can't help it! Lovely interactive feedbacks make me want to huggle you all to death:D

To **Angelic Transmission**: Thanks so much for researching the name of that hammer-like thingy used on crabs! XD And you've been re-reading my fic:tears of joy: Ahehe, I'd never thought I could elicit such feedback, since I worked on a pretty crazy idea, but I appreciate it nevertheless:huggle: And you're right… we're Homo Sapiens Sapiens:D Gee, are we smart beings or what?

To **Ryua**** Malfoy**: Yesh, food makes the world go round! And thanks for that suggestion! I think I have plans for Pegasus dropping by to aid Yami's plight :wink wink:

To **Eric Awasaki**: Oh my… an operation? I hope the story hasn't made you suffer… like opening some random stitches! Eep!

To **Desidera**: Yep, we totally have the same experience into going to fancy restaurants XD I even handed the plate just like you did! And yesh, my dad raised an eyebrow at me and said that I need not do that… But that's SO lazy! Ehehe, and I'm very glad that you liked Yami's POV in Chap 7… :huggle: High-heeled shoes are nightmares and the bane of humanity as we know it ;p

To **Siareii**: SETOYAMI! Hehe, glad to see we're on the same boat! It's a very appalling idea for Yami to undergo all through that, but he hasn't got much choice… At least he would be with Seto! Afufufufu XD

To **voyuerer**: Bed scene, bed scene! It may not be what you think, but then again… :enigmatic smile:

To **skecchi**: Whoa! Thanks so much for researching that wonderful tidbit of info on that blasted Bird's Nest soup! XD It's still pretty much expensive.. I don't know what the hell are some rich people are playing at for paying a humongous chunk of cash for a soup :shrugs head:

To **Kawaii**** Chibi Yami**: XD Don't worry, I use my hands too (when I get pissed off trying to get the shrimps' shell out of its misery and into my mouth XD)

To **Shy**: You're really amusing:huggles you: That shy tone's really something, and I find it really cute! XD Keep it up!

To **Hakudoshi-chan**:nods: yep, you and Yami share the same sentiments (me too, of course). Servants and expensive soups are really the overdrive… we're not all helpless, and some people (servants) don't seem to get the clue. XD Thanks so much for reading:huggle:

AND SO MANY OTHERS! I may have forgotten to include others, I'm sorry for that! I'll do my best to accommodate you all! Thanks so much for making this fic happen:group huggle: Your thoughts are my gasoline to pump out my creative juices! Keep them coming, everyone!

On a more apologetic note, I would like to apologize (again) for being TOO late updating. :cries: Some extra work needed to be done, and I couldn't squeeze any fanfic writing spree. Plus, I got a bit of a writer's block, which didn't help matters at all. :bows down: **I'M SO SORRY!**

On with the story:woot:

**.o0o.**

**Chapter Eight: Of Pink Pajamas and Good Night**

Yami felt himself sigh pleasurably as wave after wave of lukewarm water cascaded down on him – down on his slick black hair, his small shoulders, his bare chests and to the rest of his tired body. He could feel the stress and tension going down the drain along with the soothing water.

Taking advantage of his little moment of privacy, he went on standing on the pristine marble tiles, to mull over the events that had transpired over the course of the week – events that he felt to have occurred from another life, from another place.

How was Yami supposed to know that an innocent birthday party landed him a contract with no less than Seto Kaiba himself? He certainly did not see a fashion makeover in his long-term future plans. And he definitely did not count on being a surrogate mother to a child he haven't met before.

And yet here he was, smacked right in the middle of the legendary Kaiba Mansion (inside an expansive shower room, no less), having undergone several most unbelievable things no woman could ever imagine, let alone a man like him!

Looking at his fingers (manicured and French-tipped) to find out they already looked like prunes from staying too long under the shower, he finally decided that he had had enough of cursing his luck. Grabbing a fresh bathrobe from a nearby rack, he threw it around himself as he dried his hair with another towel. The towel, he noticed, was emblazoned with a navy blue monogram of the Kaiba family, standing out like a sore thumb amidst the pearly white fabric – another incessant reminder that he is currently employed under the businessman's services.

Needless to say, the bathroom was just as abnormally large as every other room in the entire house. Apart from the shower room and the toilet, a walk-in closet joined the rest of it together, replete with several full-length mirrors, which somehow reminded Yami of carnivals and their so-called "house of mirrors". The closet fared the same. Instead of wooden cabinets and drawers one would expect to see, sleek black glasses lined the walls, with no indication of any handle nor any groove to open or close it.

Yami stared at the dull excuse of a cabinet stupidly. He needed clothes, that was obvious. Leaving his house in haste, he wasn't able to lug along any piece of clothing, save for that red shirt and black pants – which were most likely have been discarded by Pegasus in the midst of his "metamorphosis". How was he supposed to work around this strange contraption?

Stifling a well-charged curse that threatened to escape his lips, Yami forced it back down and started thinking for a plausible alternative. 'Ask a maid for assistance, maybe?' he thought. Seeing that there was no other option, he gave a retired sigh.

"Best to get over with this fast," he muttered aloud. Tightening the knots of his bathrobe, he walked towards the door to the bedroom.

How was Yami supposed to know that Seto was on the other side?

**.oOo.**

"What are you doing here?" Yami asked in a tone that sounded both accusatory and stunned. Before him stood Seto, in the process of untying his necktie, looking at him in mild surprise, as if waiting for him all along.

Seto raised an eyebrow. "This room happens to be mine, in case you know, Mutou. I have every right to be here." He sounded restrained, but there was no mistaking the slightly irked tone mingling with his voice.

"Well, I'm very pleased to know I'm having the most appalling opportunity of bunking with you," shot Yami with sarcasm. "I think I'm blessed, don't you think so?"

"Save your poorly-acted theatrics, Mutou, for the situation calls for us to…stay in one room together." Seto slipped off his necktie and placed it on a desk. "I am just as appalled as you are, apparently. No one wants to share a room with a complete stranger."

Yami found himself watching Seto's fingers fumbling with the buttons of his long-sleeved polo. Realizing this, he looked away abruptly, scolding himself mentally for staring. Fortunately for him, Seto did not seem to notice anything.

"I think you know the reason behind this peculiar arrangement?" Seto asked.

Yami rolled his eyes. "Because we don't want your son wondering why Mommy and Daddy are sleeping far apart from each other when they're supposed to be having some hot gratuitous sex –"

"Excuse me?" Seto cut in, angry glaring eyes boring imaginary holes at Yami.

"Yeah. Like that's going to happen," Yami returned the smothering look. He threw his arms in exasperation. "Honestly, Kaiba! I'm not born yesterday, and I certainly do not feel the need for man flesh, thank you very much!"

Seto approached him, his full height towering over the relatively smaller man, both of them inches away from each other. "You watch your mouth, Mutou, because that's the last thing I want my son to be hearing from his mother."

Yami squared his shoulders and threw back a defiant look, not yet admitting defeat. However, he was beginning to notice that Seto's blue eyes wandered off away from his face and down to his neck –

Almost forgetting that he was still in a loose bathrobe, Yami's hand hastily flew over his nearly exposed chest, coupled with a harassed look passing through his features.

"Hasn't anybody told you that it's rude to stare?" he snapped.

Yet Seto seemed to be operating on a different train of thought. "What the hell are you wearing?"

"A bathrobe, duh?"

"With your chest exposed, no less!" Seto grabbed Yami's arm and started dragging him towards the bathroom.

"OW! Don't yank my arm off!" Yami's protests went unheard to the CEO's ears.

"Strutting around the house with nothing but a flimsy bathrobe on," Seto started indignantly, shrugging his head in disgust. "What if Mokuba sees you in that? What will you do to explain yourself?"

"I am NOT strutting, Kaiba!" Yami shot angrily back, as he tugged his hand off Seto. "And stop being paranoid; Mokuba is safely tucked in bed, he's not bound to see –"

"That's exactly the sort of attitude that will get you in trouble!" came an equally furious reply. "You have to consider the unpredictability of the situations, Mutou, not just in Mokuba's case, but with the rest of the people around you. There should be no room for failure in this arrangement, do you understand me?"

"Good god, Kaiba, I get it!" Yami cried in frustration. "I was merely looking for something other than this piece of cloth to wear – isn't that too much to ask?"

A curious look replaced the once-furious businessman. "Your clothes are all in the closet," he said simply.

**.oOo.**

Seto smirked as he punched a small button cleverly tucked unobtrusively at the side of the wall, all the more making Yami feel increasingly stupid by the second.

"How was I supposed to know that it's got some god-forsaken switch?" Yami said crossly, looking away defiantly to elude the growing smirk on the other man's face.

"I guess common sense is a lost art these days," came a smooth yet taunting reply.

"And I guess normal things like cabinets and drawers are long extinct too," retorted Yami, watching the thick dark glass sliding sideways accompanied with a gentle humming sound.

"New age, new times, new technology, Mutou. Hasn't anybody told you that?"

"Not from the mountain where I came from, tech geek."

Seto let out a disgruntled sigh. Placing a hand on his temple, he said, "I am tired, Mutou. And I do not fancy myself to baby-sit you and alleviate your intellectual incompetence. I wish to rest, so do you mind?" He pressed another button on the wall. "I expect you know what clothes are, perchance?"

Yami raised a finger at him in reply, one that went unnoticed by the CEO, for Seto was already making a beeline for the door. But whatever ill will Yami wished for the retreating figure in front of him, it had all vanished in an instant. His red eyes focused on the clothes that neatly hung on the revolving steel line. He froze.

"WHAT THE HELL IS THIS!"

**.oOo.**

"Kaiba! This had better not be what I think it is!"

"Those are pajamas. So?"

"PINK pajamas, I might so lovingly add!" I hissed, holding up the cursed silk fabric inches away from Kaiba's face. "And so is the rest of my freaking wardrobe!"

Kaiba brushed the pajamas away from him in annoyance. He poked through the other rotating apparel and piece of clothing in the cabinet. "There are other colors too, Mutou. Or are you color-blind, so to speak? Or misguided in the ways of civilization?"

I do not know if this is some perverse idea of a sick joke, for I am not getting the punch line. Contents of the said cabinet were teeming with what look like pastel colored nightmares. Cream yellow dresses. Sky blue blouses. Lavender silk scarves. Baby pink sweaters. Clothes that would make anyone turn themselves green with disgust. And I thought that sundress a couple of hours ago was bad – wait – _is that a tube!_

**.oOo.**

Yami turned the television off, his spirit still at the verge of committing suicide. Why? Apparently, Seto did not take his suggestion of throwing away the contents of the closet, saying it was "expensive designer clothes" which Yami cared less for, anyway. In the end, Seto had to push him out of the closet, insisting that he had to take a shower. And for an added effect – perhaps just to spite Yami - Seto did not forget to throw the pink pajamas straight into his face.

Tugging the pink fabric irritably, Yami had no choice but to stick with his present wardrobe, until he could talk his way into buying a whole new set (which would comprise of darker, brooding colors) from no less than the brunette businessman.

"Fat chance," he grumbled, eyeing the large wide screen plasma television with dismay. 'Whatever cable company who boasted a wide range of entertainment channels was just one big ass of a liar,' he thought as he settled the remote on the bedside table. None of the available programs piqued his interest the slightest, which led him to pressing the off button all too soon, allowing him to wallow in his own pool of unfortunate circumstances.

Silence flooded his ears, save for a soft slow hum from the centralized air conditioners surrounding the enormous mansion. For a few moments, he lay on the soft plush mattress, his eyes staring at the ceiling above him, its edges and center intricately lined with design that suggested great affluence and flamboyance from the Kaiba predecessors. Yami let himself stare vaguely at the cream and navy-blue and the otherwise minimalist motif of the wallpapers, giving the room a feel of big contrast. Even the other things inside it seemed to be working on that same idea: pieces of wooden and furniture clashed differently with the more futuristic and new-age gadgetry the businessman has equipped his room with.

Yami's eyelids began to droop slowly. He let out a yawn, and then rubbed his eyes briefly, before finally arranging himself to a comfortable position. Silence still ensued, and for a while, Yami was pretty much at peace ---

Until he was blasted awake upon hearing the rush of water from the shower on the other side of the door.

Only four words registered in Yami's mind right now: Kaiba. Taking. A. Bath.

**.oOo.**

I wish I hadn't turned off the TV. At least it would've been a lot noisier around here. But no sir – my mind was stuck on some fantastic four-word sentence that I would dare not utter. (A/N: But we've read it already XD) And my body did not seem to get the hint of grabbing the remote controller or any nearby distraction that will tear me away from hearing water dropping on someone else's brown hair, slipping past blue eyes, down to his shoulders, down to ---

**AARGH!**

It's not right for me to be thinking of such things right now.

But the mental image -- !

I dove for the nearest pillow that I could reach. Big mistake. Only the strong scent of what seemed to be Kaiba's perfume clogged my nostrils. A realization swept me far off from the trenches of my unconscious, once-sleepy state, keeping me awake. Why see this only now? I know, I KNOW about this already, but this was the first time that I took it seriously. Really seriously.

Surely I was to masquerade as Mokuba's mother…

…but will that mean I also have to be Kaiba's wife?

**.oOo.**

"What's wrong with you?" Seto asked, his deep-blue eyes shooting across the room to where a certain person in pink nightclothes jumped with a start, clearly taken by surprise.

Yami had barely enough time to act normal as best as he could, despite his face betraying him, showing signs of color clearly resembling his pajamas. He turned around to face Seto, dressed in blue-gray pajamas, and a towel perched on his hair, small drops of water still clung around his oak-brown locks.

"My pajamas sucks," Yami muttered half-heartedly, as if trying to sound deeply upset, but failed miserably.

"Well, if you don't fancy wearing that, then grab one of mine, just so to keep your mouth shut," Seto replied, using his free hand to point at the walk-in closet.

"Forget it," the other snapped in return, looking away hurriedly, but not fast enough. Seto seemed to notice that Yami was attempting to hide an obvious blush.

"Suit yourself," said Seto, unperturbed, and not the least bit awkward. "I, on the other hand, am going to sleep." He started to walk towards his roommate's direction.

Alarm bells started ringing in Yami's mind. 'Kaiba – _sleeping beside me_?' He could not think of anything else. "Hey, hold on," he raised a hand to stop the other's progress. "There's no way in hell that I'm going to share this bed with you!"

Seto instinctively raised an eyebrow, all the while suppressing a bored yawn. "And whoever said I wanted to? Although I resigned myself to the fact that I'm staying inside a room with you, there are certain things I certainly cannot do – and that is sleeping anywhere beside you."

"Glad to see that we finally agreed on something beneficial for both of us for a change," Yami said with gusto, while internally thanking his stars that he was lucky at least for the moment. "Where are you sleeping?" he found himself asking.

His answer came when Seto plopped down on a long easy couch adjacent to the wall, and attempted to make himself comfortable on the makeshift bed.

Yami observed the businessman struggling with the couch, which was still quite suited for his height. But knowing a luxury man like Seto, there was bound to be some problems regardless. Sighing, Yami snatched an extra pillow and blanket at the foot of the bed, and threw it at him, who was startled at the sudden random action. He eyed the two items quizzically, before looking at the pitcher from across the room.

"It might get cold in the middle of the night, so you'd better have those," Yami spoke, more to his blanket than to Seto, keen to hide his growing embarrassment.

There was brief silence. Seto cleared his throat, and added rather grumpily, "I take it that you don't snore? Because I couldn't sleep very well with all that violent guttural noise erupting from your throat."

The momentary sympathy Yami felt evaporated in an instant. 'How could I even feel compassion for this pompous git?' he thought regretfully. Pushing a button internally wired to the bedside table to close the lights (He experimented with it a while ago), he answered. "Well, good night to you too, jerk!"

The lights above them dimmed then went off. Soon enough, the room was blanketed with darkness, save from the moonlight peering through velveteen windows, bathing a little of the room with silver and ethereal glow.

In the midst of the ensuing silence, both Seto and Yami heaved out a relieved and troubled sigh. Relieved that yes, the grueling day is over, but troubled all the same, since there are still many days to come to endure each other's presence.

TBC 

**A/N**: Yami gets more intricately woven in various misadventures around the Kaiba Mansion, as he continues to struggle to fit in with his new job as an in-house make-believe mother. Brace yourselves for a relatively long chapter (theoretically) that will turn Yami's patience over the edge, and prove his mettle while still exuding grace that can only come from a woman that he is obviously not!

Do you think he can still make it? Tell me your insights through a **REVIEW**! XD

I am also taking in suggestions that can be used for the next chapter's "misadventures" that Yami will go through! No matter how bogus, hilarious, or crazy, tell me by submitting a **review**! I will take them in and work around it to make it a part of this narrative.

Yami: You are punishing me, aren't you? What did I do to deserve this!

No questions for this chappie, but I'd very much appreciate your suggestions for the next chapters:D

Thanks for reading!

**Aoi**** Rakuen **(Somebody kick me if I'm not updating regularly)


	9. Dear

Mother Figure by Aoi Rakuen 

A/N: Er… how long was I gone? Gah, I could only beg for forgiveness… T.T My schedule did not come right, and I've been juggling with more than I could take. Ergo, sleepless nights and … more sleepless nights. Argh, don't forget to add mental block too. Works wonders when you really REALLY need to write something (like this fic, for this instance). Wah, I profusely apologize! I owe you a lot of explanation T.T

I came to read my other drafts. Suffice to say, they feel awkward at some point, so I could either edit it to make it look nice, or delete them before you could read them. They're absolutely senseless at this point. XD

More heartwarming reviews:huggles everyone: All your well-wishing messages and suggestions are not unheard! I've taken down most of your ideas, so I could think over where I could squeeze your thoughts into the fic. Again, thanks!

Credits to the reviewers will come next chapter. XD I love you guys!

This is my first fanfic here; so do tell me what you think of it!

Yu-Gi-Oh is a legal property of Kazuki Takahashi, and other big names. It's not mine. Don't sue me.

Some words of caution, though: If you're a yaoi-hater and not so keen on Prideshipping, this story isn't for you. I am a S/Y fan all the way, and personally, they're a pairing that makes a whole lot of sense when you read anything on the series and manga, despite the latter's lack of feeling and depth. Pfft, what the hell. :D

**SUMMARY**: YGO AU FIC. What if you're paid to be the mother of a billionaire's son? But what if you're a MAN? Yami goes through this life-changing situation when he strikes a deal with CEO Seto Kaiba. Read and Review! XD

"…" – spoken dialogue

'…' – thoughts; sometimes come _italicized_.

**.o0o.**

Chapter Nine: Dear 

_No, I don't want Mommy to leave!_

Footsteps echoed throughout the empty corridors, vast and yet so tight around him, attempting to swallow him whole in one fell swoop. He ran, past the numerous windows, past foyers, past doors to where he would want to see his only source of salvation…

"Young Master, please do not --!"

Shouts followed after him, as if chasing him to his demise, scaring him. He had harbored a great fear towards screams – loud intensifying voices that shook his body awake each time, only to submerge him back to another merciless nightmare…

He wrenched open the door, only to be greeted by more crying, more hurtful voices…

The whole room was bright; so much that only blurred visions of silhouettes swam in front of him, thin and dreary against the piercing glare. Yet he could still make out a beautiful image that he knew so well, one that doesn't need eyes for seeing…

"Mommy?"

He inched forward; eager to meet that familiar warmth he yearned for, reaching out a hand to lessen the distance between them, only to be hindered by hands that clung onto him, persistent, relentless…

"Please, I want to see my son!"

"Bring Mokuba back to his room. Now!" He felt being pulled back into that same dark and brooding place yet again – even after so many attempts he had tried to escape their clutches, the tighter the grip became, vice-like and unforgiving.

"Mommy!"

He saw her move closer to him, but was thwarted by another shadow, taller and more formidable than her, pushing her away vehemently, as if never intending her to move another inch closer to him.

"Let me go! I want to see Mokuba!"

He watched as she struggled even more, putting up a fight against the other one, but to no avail. The other was strong; try as she might to use whatever she has at that instant.

"No! Get out of my house, I don't want you anywhere near him!"

She was crying; he could feel it – the pleading tears that fell down from her eyes, streaming down her cheeks, and finally dying on the pristine marble floors that now carried her cascading diamonds. He could now taste the salt in his lips, as if her tears had found another outlet in his eyes, pain and remorse mixed with it. He tried to break free from the barriers that held him, thrashed around just to run towards her…

More shouts. He was starting to get scared of all the shouts and the fights…

"He is my son too! Let me see him!"

"As far as I'm concerned, Mokuba doesn't have a mother anymore! The day you walked out of that door was the day you have erased your existence in his life!"

She stumbled on the floor, dazed, wounded so much that no physical injury would amount to the pain that poisoned her.

"NOW GET OUT OF MY SIGHT! I DON'T WANT TO SEE YOU AGAIN!"

His eyes widened. Shocked and frightened little eyes dawned on the comprehension of something terrible…

It was goodbye.

She would never come back.

Never.

Never…

Fresh tears still stung Mokuba's eyes as he awoke from another recurring nightmare, never stopping until the very last moment, as if enjoying tormenting him. He wiped his tear-stained cheeks, and then allowing his eyes to adjust to the thin sunlight pouring through the thick curtains.

His birthday wish had come true: his mother had indeed come back. Last night, when she tucked him to bed, and kissed him good night, Mokuba was so sure that his nightmares would go away now. And still the same thing came to him, that same voices and struggle, night after night…

He could still hear the echoes of those faraway shouts from the dream. It hung around the four walls around him. With a violent jolt, he pressed his hands over his hears, rasping, pleading for the voices to stop.

"_NOW GET OUT OF MY SIGHT! I DON'T WANT TO SEE YOU AGAIN!"_

"Mommy! Daddy!"

**.o0o.**

Yami rolled over to his side, clutching the warm blanket up to his chest, thanking his stars for having a nice bedroom, complete with sophisticated air-conditioning system to lull him to sleep. He opened an eye to gaze at his surroundings.

Apparently, he was faced at the side of the room where the couch was in his line of vision. He saw Seto, his eyes closed, looking very peaceful, bathed by a soft glow from the sunlight that managed to make its way to the room. Wisps of brown hair splashed down to his face, framing his strong jaw. Yami watched for a few moments, observing the rise and fall of his roommate's chest. His eyes flickered over to the bedside clock: 5:35.

"Good grief, it's still early," Yami mumbled. "Yugi's class isn't due until eight; I guess I have to…" Silent murmurs replaced Yami's words as he was pulled back to dreamland. Pretty soon, in a matter of seconds, he would be practically unconscious.

And then the door slammed open. Whatever stupor or trance that hung between the two sleepyheads at the opposite ends of the bedroom was finally broken. Seto was blasted awake and had to suffer a marvelous albeit pathetic fall from the couch, brown hair disheveled and eyes bloodshot, still straining to see through the morning light. Yami, on the other hand, was more alert than the former, and was able to react better: he had managed to pull the blanket over his flat chests. But he was having a hard time stifling well-pronounced curse that sounded like he was a man.

"Mokuba?" Yami croaked in his octave-higher female voice. "What's wrong?"

Both Seto and Yami's eyes followed Mokuba as he bounded for the bed and into his "mother's" arms.

"I had a bad dream," said the little one in a small voice, afraid and yet at the same time, embarrassed. And he continued, "that you and Daddy are fighting…"

'Yeah, we're more or less fighting over some god-awful wardrobe and some frilly pink pajamas,' said Yami in his thoughts, all the more remembering last night's proceedings. Not a pleasant thought first thing in the morning. "Your daddy and I aren't fighting," he said weakly.

"Then…then… why are you sleeping so…so far apart from each other?" sniffed the child, casting both his parents an innocent, yet quite hurtful glance.

Yami could feel Seto's peerless eyes glaring at him, as if sending invisible brainwaves to come up with an alibi to explain themselves. Racking his brains for ideas, he realized that his brain still had the hangover of sleep. "Um, we…uh –"

"I woke up too early, so I decided to sit by the couch," Seto managed to blurt out, hardly believing what he was saying. "I didn't realize I've fallen asleep…"

Silence.

Then Mokuba sniffed, along with a sigh of relief. "Don't fight anymore, promise?"

Yami and Seto not only exchanged looks, but also of ill-wished thoughts, something that went along the lines "like hell I would promise something like that to you of all people". They would no sooner jump into a lake of piranhas than peacefully coexist with each other.

"We promise, Mokuba," they said in unison.

And Mokuba smiled for the first time that day.

**.oOo.**

"I'll see you downstairs for breakfast!" And with a cheery wave, the young Kaiba bounded happily for the door and out to the corridors, all the while humming good-naturedly. Both his parents smiled at him. And then he was gone.

One second. Two seconds. Three seconds…

"See what I mean about the 'unpredictability of situation'? This is exactly what you must avoid at all times!" Seto hissed, apparently displeased. "You were lucky I came up with an excuse; otherwise you'll be in deep trouble, do you understand me? I don't --"

"Hey, wait a friggin' second!" Yami shot back. "Me? You keep on pointing me out as if it's my entire fault your son caught you unguarded! Well _knock-knock_, Kaiba, you're the one who's blowing our cover!"

"Remind me to tell you that you were almost caught without a shirt on!"

"Well excuse me for appreciating simple cabinets than space-age techno trash!" retorted the other, bolting out of the bed as he did so. "And not to mention that the clothes inside it are no way better than a beggar's!"

"Clothes that cost more than your life, I'm sure."

"Oh, so now you're bringing money into the picture. And since when did you turn into an accounts manager?" Yami rolled his eyes. They are both moving further and further away from the argument, but inflicting the most acid statement was their only goal as of the moment.

"I'm a CEO, Mutou, in case you're wondering. I know what my money is worth."

Half-suppressing an irritated groan, Yami leveled his gaze with Seto, his manicured finger prodding his roommate's chest. And he said without thinking, "No, _you _are my husband, and a father to a young son who only wants a simple family. No businessman, no CEO bullshit you're telling me. You're just –"

As if suddenly electrified, Yami found himself stopping. Seto's angry eyes became utterly surprised, not at all expecting the former to say anything quite like this.

There was a queasy, uncomfortable silence that hung between them. No one attempted to break it, not because they wanted to; it was just they couldn't think of any way to do it. Yami cursed himself mentally for bursting out unceremoniously while Seto could only stare stupidly. Both wanted badly to end the uneasy moment.

Like a sort of Deus-ex-machina, Seto's cell phone suddenly rang. Relieved, he turned from Yami and retrieved his savior. Yami sighed, equally thankful at the diversion. At the very least, the tense atmosphere was gone.

Slipping on a bathrobe, Yami gazed at the bedside clock.

It was just 6:15 in the morning.

**.oOo.**

God, tell me I did not make a mistake by succumbing to this deal.

One day into this arrangement, Mutou and I have been already in more than five different arguments. Immature and senseless they may all be, but we argued like schoolchildren nonetheless.

One day into this arrangement, Mokuba was almost at the verge of finding out this whole fiasco. It was a miracle we managed to pull through after all these happenings. But our luck will eventually run out.

I have risked too many things. More and more, it seems. My son will be happy. He ought to be.

**.oOo.**

Tell me I did not say that Kaiba is my husband. Because he isn't.

So what made me blurt that out? Maybe just to shut him up…or both of us. Whatever it is, it did the trick. After that moment of silence, we scampered away from each other, taking as much space as we could find to widen our proximity. His room – though big in its own – did not manage to help, ironically.

And so, the next time I saw Kaiba was in the dining hall. Mokuba was already there, a smile on his face. Somehow, his mood seemed to raise my spirits. I wonder how Yugi's doing?

Breakfast at the Kaiba mansion was, should I say, almost as tiring and exasperating as that dinner just last night. While my mouth watered over a lot of things being served, the splendor and the grandness of it all were all too much. I watch in disbelief as Kaiba effortlessly ordered around his servants like puppets, while they moved with clockwork-precision: the butler handed over several newspapers; the waiter poured coffee on the mug while another one placed fresh rolls of bread on the table. All on rehearsed, well-timed coordination.

I could only grunt at this array of performance, of course. Not that I can't comment on it. The problem is, I really cannot say much – at least things that might give me away – especially when in the presence of the two Kaibas. I might have one of those slip-of-the-tongue things again and it's kingdom come for me. I looked at the television just near us, naturally tuned in on the news channel. If it were me, it'd be on Cartoon Network. Anything other than a boring channel. Though Kaiba had one of the newspapers on his hands, his fierce cobalt eyes stared unblinkingly at the tube.

"And the economy seems well for the entire Domino business district. Increasing rates are astounding, and the sector is more than astonished. From the previous month's 12, it now went to a record-breaking – "

Well, what can I say? I have the attention span of a random bug. "Change the channel, please," I said.

Big mistake.

Different things happened at once. For the most part, all of the servants seemed to have lost their precision timing and started gaping at me. Mokuba's timid eyes almost rolled out its socket. That time, I knew I did something totally unforgivable. Not surprising, since Kaiba's word is law in this household.

And then there was Kaiba, an eyebrow raised out of mixed annoyance and surprise. The newspaper was now limp in his hands. I could easily hear veins popping to dangerous levels. Time to rectify the damage.

"Dear, I'd fancy something light to begin our day. Surely, your newspaper basically has all the essential information you need…?" Agh, '_dear'_? God, take me now!

At this point, Kaiba was shooting daggers at me. Either it was for my sheer cheek or for calling him 'dear', I could only guess. I could only risk a smile – innocent, serene, and adorable as I could ever muster.

Kaiba returned my smile with a withering glare, a look that clearly said, "no way in hell". But what surprised me was that he grunted dismissively (if not grudgingly). "Point taken, _dear_. Somebody change the channel."

I almost choked on my bread upon hearing that. My eyes could only twitch involuntarily. Not a good thing. For a few seconds, the world stopped. Heck, even I stopped, incredulous. Kaiba was actually conceding to me! Not to mention he called me 'dear'. Whoa. A maid nearby motioned for the remote controller.

"Rise and shine, Domino! The northeastern wind is bringing in the cool breeze, so better equip yourselves with knitted sweaters and hot chocolate for warmth. Yesterday's temperature drops to—"

"Dear, you should bring a scarf, just in case," I suggested helpfully. Okay…it did not help things _at all_; I could've sworn Kaiba flashed a glare at me yet again.

The maid behind us bit back a giggle – more like a suppressed squeal from a fangirl. That did not help things at all either.

And for the first time that morning, Kaiba and I glared at someone other than the two of us.

**.oOo.**

"So we are calling each other 'dear' now?"

"Well, I was hoping you'd dismiss that pet name and call me 'honey' instead. Happy?"

Seto hissed. "Watch it, Mutou. Are you trying to choke me?"

"Oh yes I am trying to incapacitate you, dear." Yami could barely keep his voice at a minimum. They were both just outside the door, waiting for the limo to pass by and pick up Seto and Mokuba. The younger Kaiba was still inside, fortunately, but there's no way of telling when he'll show up. So that's how both men are communicating at the moment – on the pretense of adjusting Seto's tie.

"Loosen it, dammit," Seto ordered. He averted his eyes anywhere near the other.

Yami let out an irritated grunt and tiptoed to reach up to the other's height. However, their difference did not make things any easier. "That knot is good enough, Kaiba. Stop your whining."

"Yes, it's good enough to block the circulation of air to my lungs," Seto replied, lowering his tie a bit. He sighed in relief.

Yami rolled his eyes. "Fine. Knock yourself out. Will do us both a favor."

"What did you –" Seto's words came muffled as Yami threw a scarf around him.

"There. I did tell you to bring one, did I, dear?"

Seto could barely hide his fury when the door opened. Mokuba came out, along with the butler. Upon seeing his parents, the young boy beamed at them. Yami and Seto could only smile weakly back at him, their heated debate vanishing instantly.

"Hi Mokuba, I also got you a scarf, in case you'd feel cold," Yami held the fabric in his hands, wrapping it around the boy's neck. "That will keep you warm."

"Thanks, mom!" Mokuba answered. "Wow, Daddy and I even have the same ones!"

"Yeah, I know… isn't that sweet?" Yami's voice came out sickeningly sweet than he expected.

Moments later, the limousine parked in front of them.

Yami found himself saying his morning digest that he usually gives to his younger brother. "Now here's your packed lunch. Finish it and don't let it go to waste, alright?"

Mokuba smiled. "Okay, mommy."

"And study hard!"

"Will do!"

And with that, Yami bent down to place a kiss on Mokuba's cheek. No sooner than that, Seto walked past the two.

"Let's go now, Mokuba."

Seto stared blankly at Yami. "I'm going now."

"You take care," came a hollow reply. Already, Yami was shifting his legs to run back inside the mansion.

Seto was about to get in the car when Mokuba asked,

"Aren't you going to kiss Mommy before you go, Daddy?"

TBC 

**Author's Notes**: Well, what do you think? Should Daddy kiss Mommy? Will they be able to overcome their hatred for a second just for a quick kiss? Most votes from you will determine their fate! Drop me a **REVIEW**! ;p

**What's on Chapter 10**: Yami takes some household matters in his own hands… s/he will invade the kitchen and then some more! And what about Seto's tastebuds?

Comments and suggestions are more than welcome! Send them in through a review! Or you can email me: aoi(underscore)rakuen(at)yahoo(dot)com. – must get rid of those spam bots XD

Thanks for reading!

**Aoi Rakuen (Blue Paradise) XD**


	10. Maitre 'd

**Mother Figure by Aoi Rakuen**

Wai! I am alive! XDD I still think I'm six feet under, but then again, it's still great to be alive once more XD

APOLOGIES! I know I am such a bad author for not keeping up with my schedules.. :O Kick me! T.T How long was I gone? T.T Suddenly, it seems like ages since I wrote the previous chappie.

THANKS! Loads of reviews, wah, I didn't expect this much feedback :tears of endless joy: ;p

Chapter 9's "kiss" is from the bright mind of AngelicTransmition. Though I've been thinking of writing something like that as well, she gave me a head start XD. Thanks so much!

On the other hand, I owe a lot of you some individual replies. It's about the only thing I could think of to compensate for my utter lack of fast-updating abilities. XD Here are some from the most recent reviewer:

To **Shaylan**: nod: I agree with you there. Seto does not know what REALLY hit him. He was probably expecting a more obedient Yami, but we know that's impossible. Hehe. Sometimes, not everything translates well from the theoretical framework to the actual scenario. XD

To **Mishiko Shinsei**: I am glad that you liked this story! Sorry for the late update though.. :sweatdrops:

To **Alurine Shadowsong**: Yay! Another rabid SYY fan:hugs: Our numbers should be increasing! Mehehehe :evil:

To **Icesphere**: I have to admit, cliffhangers are fun. XD But I do apologize I left it hanging for SO long T.T

To **Silverwingdragon**: Joey's sister might make an appearance.. I am not so sure yet. But I assure you Joey is still in this fic, along with everyone else's. For now, we are inside the Kaiba mansion XD I should update faster T.T

To **Telpei**: Thanks so much! We shall soon see if the two shyall kiss :wink wink: The woman Yami is impersonating will be introduced in a series of flashbacks... but I'm leaving the story open for more instances to happen XD Yes, one of these days...Seto will blurt out Mutou... XDD

To **AngelicTransmition**:waves back at you for a year as well: Hehe, thanks so much for that! Hmm.. I'll think of that suggestion... it's sounds a lot of crack! XDD

To **tsuhiyo**: Yep, some people are telling me the plot comes from a movie. But it's okay. :D I always wanted to do something like this, though it looks like someone beat me to it first XD Thanks so much!

I missed out on some reviewers.. I apologize. I will get back to all of you when I find more time. I could probably e-mail you if something would come up :D

EVERYONE is rooting for a KISS! Now, I better not delay this long overdue chapter, so here we go!

But first: my disclaimer XDD

Yu-Gi-Oh is a legal property of Kazuki Takahashi, and other big names. It's not mine. Don't sue me.

Some words of caution, though: If you're a yaoi-hater and not so keen on Prideshipping, this story isn't for you. I am a S/Y fan all the way, and personally, they're a pairing that makes a whole lot of sense when you read anything on the series and manga, despite the latter's lack of feeling and depth. Pfft, what the hell. :D

**.oOo.**

**Chapter 10: Maitre 'd **

Both of them paled.

Yami could only look incredulously back at Mokuba, whose pale blue eyes shone brightly in response. There was just something about the young boy's eyes that would make _anyone _do _anything _for him…

…it was just that he was asking for too much. Like asking the sun to set in the east.

Yami could also sense that Seto was not enthusiastic about the idea either. Their silence was so uncomfortable that it sent Yami to back away to widen their proximity only to find that he mistook a step…

…and landed straight into Seto's arms. Apparently, the latter has quick reflexes, something the businessman wasn't sure if having it was an advantage or not at the moment.

'_Oh shit,'_ Yami cursed in his thoughts, practically hating his stars for landing him in such a position – literally and figuratively. He immediately avoided the other's glance and thanked – for the first time – his limp black hair for covering his pink-tinged ears.

"Be careful," Seto said in a surprisingly-concerned voice. Seeing that Yami was clearly looking away from him, he saw this as an opportunity to plant a small peck on the other's cheek. Real quick.

It was at that same time when Yami shifted his face to look at Seto.

Big mistake.

**.oOo.**

Yami had to admit: it was the fastest sprint of his life. He did not even bother watching the limousine took off, in which a happier Mokuba sat and a highly offended Seto glowered visibly.

'_At least some people are happy this morning,' _Yami thought bitterly, and he wasn't just pertaining to Mokuba; a maid waiting on them outside the main door giggled appreciatively as the scene played before her eyes.

He rounded a corner somewhere in the third floor when he decided to stop to catch his breath. It was a very disconcerting feeling: his heart was beating fast. He knew it was from running too fast in a small period of time… he _willed _it to think that way more than anything else.

With great difficulty, he found the bedroom both he and his "husband" shared.

"Day One and I'm starting to feel like I want to quit this god-forsaken job," he said aloud, confident that no one could hear him. He flopped down on the soft plush mattress. At the very least he was breathing normally again.

Suddenly, a phone rang. Frowning, he got up to answer it.

A crisp and annoyed voice started from the other line. "Never do that again."

"Consider that a mental note to yourself, since _you're _the one who swooped down and _kissed _me," Yami retorted, careful to stress the word 'kiss' as if it was the most vile thing ever existed.

Yami could feel Seto was positively fuming but the latter kept his temper at bay. "You must assume, that my son will most likely expect this thing to happen on a regular basis." Seto couldn't believe he was saying this.

And neither was Yami. "What do you mean 'on a regular basis'?" he could barely control the volume of his voice. "KISS YOU EVERYDAY! You're raving mad, Kaiba!"

Seto glared at his phone. "And you think I enjoy liplocks with you? _Please_. Do not presuppose that you're the only one here suffering, Mutou, because I feel twice as sick as you do."

"Why you—" Yami almost hurled back an insult when he stopped himself just in time. There was no point in engaging in verbal squabbles; after all, Seto was only a father who wanted his son to be happy. He closed his eyes to let his anger simmer down. "Okay Kaiba, point taken. And now you suggest we do something about this?"

Seto's voice returned to his usual businesslike timbre. "First of all, we must refrain from all these… incessant fighting. There is a tendency to accede to our respective tempers. My point simply: to co-exist despite our… differences."

"Yes," the other replied in a hollow voice, knowing very well this rule will only hold out as long as their extremely short fuses can take. Which would amount to approximately 0.5 seconds. Or less.

"Second, we should have an orchestrated and premeditated means of addressing ourselves in the presence of everybody, most especially in front of my son –"

"I thought we already have a pet name for each other, right _dear_?" Yami raised an eyebrow.

"—not to mention rehearsed acts of …" Seto had to place a lot of his willpower to continue. "…_intimacy_."

Yami's stomach did a somersault. "Er, right." He did not wish to find out what could qualify as "rehearsed acts of intimacy". Seto's knack for euphemisms was unnerving him.

The businessman now sounded like he was reading from grocery list – and an unusual grocery list at that – except his stomach was churning uncomfortably. "This include holding hands, putting an arm on one's shoulder, sitting close to each other, embracing…" He stopped before he could further embarrass himself and said impatiently, "Look Mutou, I don't have to recite everything; you ought to have understood what I meant."

Yami shrugged. "Well, no one asked you to anyway." He groaned inwardly. First rule broken.

Seto was thinking along the same lines. But sheer pride coursed openly in a Kaiba's veins, thus overriding the rule that was only made not too long ago. "I did you a huge favor; you don't even have the appropriate cranial capacity to comprehend what qualifies as intimate, let alone understand what exactly is intimacy."

Whatever regret he felt for breaking the first rule, it had disappeared instantly. "Go to hell, Kaiba," Yami shot back.

"No need to tell me. I am already in one."

"And if you place your foul lips on mine again – which is an intimate act by the way, something I don't intend on doing _with _you – I'll dismember you."

The proud CEO let out a derisive snort. "Dream on, Mutou. That won't even happen again. Ever."

And without further ado, each terminated the call with gusto.

**.oOo.**

Feeling grumpy makes me hungry. I believe I burned a fat lot of calories just by verbally dueling with that Kaiba jerk.

Rehearsed acts of intimacy…

This whole role-playing is starting to take a toll on me. 'Reality bites', that's what most would say, and I think this so-called reality has taken a big chunk out of me. Mental images are very disturbing too. Who would embrace and hold hands with a self-important git like Kaiba? I mean, _seriously_? I think it was more and more apparent that Kaiba having a wife long ago was some extreme time paradox. Plus, Mokuba doesn't look like anything like his father.

And Kaiba wants to act like we love each other to bits towards _everybody_. That includes Mokuba and the rest of the whole wide world. If I were an actor in this twisted play, I would've happily resigned. That girl servant a while ago loved that star-studded performance, which is not a good sign. An instant shipper, it seems. If Kaiba _alone _is one paparazzi magnet, I shudder to think that going out with me will attract people by the droves. I have seen enough gossip magazines (I was searching for _any _job then, mind you) to say that the whole of Domino is rooting for Kaiba to have a love life. Pathetic, really.

I miraculously found the dining hall where I saw a couple of maids and a young butler chattering. The butler saw me first and nudged the others. All of them fell silent and proceeded to bow.

"How may we help you, Madam?" he asked.

"Er…I was wondering where could the fridge be…" I found myself stammering.

"Oh, you fancy a bit of brunch, Madam?"

"Uh, yeah-yes please. Just some light bread and water." Somehow, my disguise would have to belong to a prim and proper lady. Hence, no pigging out. Bummer.

"Right away, madam," Butler Boy bowed yet again. As they turned to leave, I saw the maids, eyeing me with an amused expression scribbled across their faces. Looks like someone had already spread the word.

More shippers. More fangirls. Great. (1)

**.oOo.**

Yami basically bummed around inside the big house. True, the mansion may be teeming with people, but somehow, it felt disconcertingly quiet. The television, interesting as it seem to be (and high-end too), failed to entertain him. He then decided to look around some more and see for himself what this mansion has to offer.

The first thing he did was to visit the kitchen. He might not look like it, but Yami prided himself as a good –if not excellent - cook. Years of preparing something for Yugi before he goes off to school taught him that. The chefs might be able to fill him in on what constitutes as a good and bad recipe.

Needless to say, the kitchen staff was stunned to see him. There was a flurry of movement as they hastily made room for the surprise visitor.

"No, it's okay," said Yami over the din of clanging pots and pans. "Just want to see what sort of things you cook."

This made the staff panic even more.

As he peered over the shoulders of nervous cooks, Yami could understand why everyone looked extremely uneasy. He had heard a few of some fleeting and hushed conversations among the other servants:

"Why is the madam here?"

"I don't know. Why don't you ask her?"

"And get fired by Kaiba-sama? No way!"

"Kaiba-sama does not even dare go here…"

"Get the hell back to your work!" A woman poked his co-worker painfully in the ribs. They smiled uneasily at Yami before resuming their work.

A male cook seemed to be in command of the kitchen; he looked and clearly exuded elderly wisdom. He has gray streaks of hair mixed with platinum blond strands sticking out his hat. Yami felt himself smile as the cook let out a hearty chuckle as he sliced some potatoes.

"Madam, it's a surprise to see you down here," he said.

Surprised that the cook actually spoke to him, Yami hesitantly replied. "Something better to do, I guess. I always want to see other people cook." He managed to let out a small, girly laugh.

"Very nice to hear that!" The cook's voice boomed as he spoke. "I'd like to think that women are a sure natural when it comes to the kitchen, eh?"

Yami almost blurted out something in disagreement. "Oh, I think so too…"

"Seto was against that idea, that little shrimp." The cook was now stirring something in the pot. " 'Used to say men are better cooks anywhere. A chauvinist, even at a young age. But he's just a frustrated cook. Never got around to learn decent recipes because his father riled on him to study his ass off."

Yami found this sudden bout information quite revealing. _'This guy calls Kaiba by his given name… and a little shrimp to boot!' _The cook, sensing the young one's surprise, said, "Haha, been here since forever in case you're wondering, ever since Seto was still peeing in his bedsheets."

"Very amusing." Yami practically choked out his words as he struggled to wave off a mental image of a young Seto in wet PJ's. 'And Kaiba is a frustrated cook?' he mused in his thoughts.

"Stuck through with them Kaiba family members. Cooked their meals day in and day out. Seto grew up never believing in fancy restaurants, insisted that everything he eats has to be made by yours truly."

"Spoiled brat," Yami said in a gleeful voice.

The heavyset cook laughed and continued. "So there, I cook everything for them all, every single event of his life, heck, even on his wedding day…" The cook stopped, as if he had trodden on something not intended for the conversation. Instead, he feigned a cough.

"Ah, right. So what else would you like to learn here in the kitchens, madam?"

**.oOo.**

WEEK ONE. Whoa. I never thought I'd survive this long. Then again, just a measly week had passed. More to go then.

Fortunately, there was a LOT of things to do to while away the time spent inside the mansion. Like recipe-taking in the kitchen. Or Art Studies in the lavish Kaiba art collection. Or looking at the expansive garage that housed cars that existed only in myth. And many more. Kaiba was all the more supportive of this (he pushed me out of the room while he said this). Said he wanted me to make a good impression inside his house anyway. And the added distance was more of a welcome bonus.

However, Mokuba was more perceptive than we gave him credit for. He started asking if we guys fought (with teary eyes). And then he started being upset because there was little…uh… "family time" spent, in which he insisted that we go out on picnics, amusement parks, and lots more. I was almost expecting the kid to request that we all do a big family hug. Eurgh, God have mercy.

Hence there was a need for those dreadful "rehearsed acts of intimacy".

WEEK TWO. You don't know how uncomfortable it gets when Kaiba starts discussing how to do it exactly. But nothing in this whole "practice" prepared us for the "real thing". I know it sounds oddly contradictory, since both us are obviously faking, but delivering these rehearsed acts of intimacy in front of a live audience is pure mental torture. Some days I have to reach up to his height to kiss him, while saying "Have a good day, dear!" in the sweetest voice I could muster. And then there are some days when Kaiba would put his arm around me while the three of us watch at the den. And then we would accompany Mokuba back to his room and then wish him goodnight.

At the end of the day, as we go crawl back to the bedroom, we drop our love-smitten faces and started hating each other all over again. It's a surprise that we still find time to bicker in the middle of the night when we're exhausted the whole day trying to keep this charade as best as we can.

Worst is, everybody is buying our act. I don't know if we act so well that people are so damn convinced. I couldn't possibly be _that _good an actor. Either that or Mokuba was just being polite. But the look on his face tells me otherwise.

**.oOo.**

Three weeks have passed since this whole thing with Mutou began. I am surprised we have come this far. I do not feel very confident of our acting, yet all is well for some dubious reason. I have seen great improvement in my son these days.

Our efforts are not in vain. Yet I can't help but think it may just be a deceptive calm hanging over us. A calm before a big storm.

**.oOo.**

Yami was dutifully attending to Mokuba's study period. The Kaiba mistress borrowed the idea from his younger brother, who also followed the same study regimen: Three hours solely dedicated to homework. Or more. Yami lugged around a clipboard, as if a nurse doing her daily rounds to monitor the various allotted time per subject. He also gave himself the responsibility to give mock exams, reading comprehension exercises, and practice quizzes just to be sure. Much to his delight, the young Kaiba heir is a sharp young boy who produced excellent results. Due to this, Yami, having as much power as Seto in this household, had dismissed the boy's tutors.

When Seto heard about this news a week before, he was not amused. "You _what_?" his voice slashed through the silent room.

"It's a waste of money, in case you're wondering."

"Mind you, Mutou. The ones I hired are professionals – a stark difference from your amateur abilities as a pathetic tutor."

"Mokuba would most likely want to learn from a familiar person, not from a total stranger."

"And _you're _familiar?"

Yami fixed Seto a glare. "_I'm his mother_. It doesn't get any familiar than that."

And with that, their conversation ended. Yami could say it was his victory. Oddly enough, he found the sentence "I'm his mother" quite... unsettling.

He was flipping through the pages of the book when a piece of paper fell out of it. He picked it up and with brows furrowed, read what was on it.

"Mokuba, how come you didn't tell me something was up?" Yami asked in a gentle voice, since he was anxious that the boy might feel being reprimanded.

True enough, Mokuba looked uneasy. "I- I'm sorry, Mommy."

Yami sighed, but he placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "That's okay," he said.

Mokuba shifted his gaze to his side. "I didn't think Daddy wants to go. He never goes there anyway."

**.oOo.**

"I think you better read this," Yami said as waved the paper in front of Seto. The latter was busy looking at the company's sales report on his laptop.

"Can't you see what I'm doing?" Seto glared at the other through his glasses. He swatted the paper away.

"Your sales report will have to wait," Yami replied as he resolutely waved the paper in front of Seto. "_This_ is more pressing."

Grumbling, the brunet fixed a smoldering look at his roommate before snatching what he was holding.

A few seconds later, Seto's already-boiling blood suddenly went a couple of notches higher. "You interrupted me just to show me this?"

"Well, I find this very important, you know," Yami interjected, placing his arms on his waist. "PTA - ring any bells?"

Seto stared insolently back at him.

Flipping his long black hair impatiently, Yami cried exasperatedly. "Hello? Am I getting to you or something? Parent Teacher Association?"

"I know what PTA means, Mutou!" Seto fired back. "I don't see how this concerns me."

Yami gritted his teeth in reply. "How about the lines 'we are looking forward to your participation' sound to you?"

"You know very well I am busy."

Yami raised an eyebrow. "You know, I'm not surprised that your son does even bother telling you this."

Seto closed his laptop's lid shut and turned to him. "I'm not surprised you're this clueless, Mutou," he said. "My participation in the PTA does not simply manifest in something as trivial as physical attendance. I have given a great deal of money to launch their projects, suggested extensive operational plans to last them a lifetime, and sent the best specialists to audit their organization. You realize, Mutou, I have contributed vastly than any other parent in that association _combined_."

It took Yami a few seconds before he could say something. "I'm sure the PTA is more than grateful of your valuable contribution, Your Highness," he started. "I simply think that you could simply show up as a sign of good will." _'Which is way better than your financial contribution, something you seem to slap on everyone's faces constantly,' _he added as an afterthought, though he did not say it out loud.

"Lo and behold, Mutou," Seto retorted. "In case you haven't noticed, I have a whole corporation to manage."

Yami knew he was hitting a dead end. "So you're doing nothing about it?"

"Look, if it bothers you so much, then go to that goddamn meeting," Seto said with a hint of finality.

"What? _Me_?" Yami almost shouted at the mention of this suggestion. He didn't like where the conversation was going.

"What's the matter?" Seto asked in a deceptively innocent voice. "You're Mokuba's mother, aren't you?"

**.oOo.**

**To Be Continued**

Notes: (1) Yes, the maid represents all of us. We are shippers! Whee! XDD

I do hope I get to update at once. ((cries)) So don't leave me! T.T

**What's in Chapter 11? **Yami and the PTA... what awaits our hesitant hero/ine? And then the Kaiba mistress is thrown to a more daunting situation: The HIGH SOCIETY. And the press is not a merciful creature at all. How will Seto deal with this matter? And Mokuba wants to go out with his parents on top of that too.

**REVIEWS!** Keep 'em coming, since I feed on them XD And I could get really great ideas from all of you. ;p Questions, comments, suggestions, rants, death threats are more than welcome XD

Thanks so much for reading!

**Aoi Rakuen **(Blue Paradise)


	11. Greener Pastures

**Mother Figure by Aoi Rakuen **

**.oOo.**

**Chapter 11: Greener Pastures**

"You'd better not destroy my car, Mutou." Seto's voice was mirthless, but there was no mistaking that the businessman was all the more worried of his investment. Whether it was the custom-made sports car he will be entrusting to his pretend-wife or the pretend-wife _himself_, he has yet to guess. For one, the vehicle that Yami plucked out from the garage was one-of-a-kind - something the car-crazy businessman splurged on without batting an eyelash. He wasn't ready to loan it to a soul just yet.

Then again, Seto must be worried of Yami. He had not banked on his "wife" to be making unplanned appearances in the public any time soon; he was even unrealistically hopeful that Yami would stay inside the mansion _forever_. Seto kept delaying that uncomfortable thought going about inside him, until the actual scenario materialized in front of him when he least expected it.

The sound of the jingling car keys brought Yami back to Earth. His mind had wandered off to what might happen that could land him in serious trouble. 'In Mokuba's school as Mokuba's mother and especially as Kaiba's "wife" no less,' Yami thought sickeningly. He pushed those unpleasant ideas at the back of his mind. Summoning up his courage, he defiantly said, "I know how to drive, _dear_. Now don't be such a killjoy and give me that!"

Seto could only manage a half-hearted glare as Yami snatched the keys from him. Not entirely satisfied with their talk about "proper conduct beyond the Kaiba mansion" the night before, the CEO decided to leave a last-minute mini-lecture. He seized Yami's arm and pulled him closer.

"You must remember who you are representing, Mutou. _I do not want any mishap_. And I certainly do not want it seen on a newspaper or on any television set in Domino," Seto said, taking great care to emphasize what needs to be highlighted.

Yami fought hard to restrain his misgivings. "_**We** _don't want any mishap," he corrected. "And I never dreamt of being in a gossip column, just so you know." He closed his eyes wearily.

Seto was surprised that Yami proceeded to rest his head on his chest. His muscles tensed at the sudden show of action. He was about to say something when his companion let out a heavy sigh. He felt Yami's shoulders relax.

Silence.

Oddly enough, Yami felt grateful of Seto's presence. He understood that it was he who invited himself into this PTA business, but the CEO did not leave him hanging off the ledge; in fact, he had cancelled a lunch meeting to meet him at the house to discuss what was needed to be done. Of course, it was not exactly a peaceful discussion as one would hope for.

"Exactly why are you doing this? You could've gone to that meeting with Industrial Illusions instead of wasting your spit here!" cried Yami exasperatedly that time.

Seto's eyes slightly widened, as if he was wondering the same thing himself. Turning his gaze sideways, he curtly answered, "I'm just worried about …" his voice trailed off.

Yami could only gape silently back at him. Seto, realizing that he might've given himself away, retreated to his usual cold and aloof self. "You know that I am losing millions of dollars with every minute I'm staying here, Mutou. That new deal with Industrial Illusions won't wait for me."

"So crawl back to your business empire - no one asked for your help anyway!" Yami yelled, throwing a banana straight at Seto's face. He chased him out of the door until his anger receded.

For the second time that day, the car keys woke Yami out of his musings. He became suddenly conscious of the fact that their proximity was very noticeable. Reddening slightly at the cheeks, Yami calmly pushed himself away from the businessman. The strong scent of Seto's perfume still lingered around him.

Feigning a cough, Yami searched his brain for anything to say. "How do I look?" was what he uttered before he could stop. He kicked himself mentally for such a lame way to start a conversation. And not only that: the question naturally elicited a response from the brunet. He became increasingly aware that Seto's eyes roved over his attire and, unfortunately for him, his body.

Seto could not bring himself to answer, mainly because he could not exactly find the right words in response to the question. Lately, the Kaiba mistress had been donning on impressively high-cut skirts and baggy upper garments. Naturally, it was meant to hide unnecessary bulges. What Yami did not seem to notice was that his tendency of wearing short skirts only emphasized his legs – a scene-stealer – if that was possible.

And it certainly caught the young businessman's attention.

"It's…fine," Seto answered, after much deliberation. Then, he added, "Could you at least wear longer skirts next time, Mutou? It's very distracting as it is."

At this point, Yami's face turned scarlet in an instant. "_What?_" he dared to ask what exactly Seto meant.

Seto saw the meaning behind what he said a second too late. "What I'm saying is that you keep a low profile, understand?" he said quickly, managing to fix him his signature glare.

However, Yami was still taken aback by that particular comment. He shook his head, letting his long hair cover some parts of his red face. "Uh… right," he blurted out.

"Mommy! Daddy!"

Thankful that Mokuba showed up to ease the tension between them, Yami was keen to approach the little boy. "Hey there, big shot! I was just about to leave but then I saw you!"

Mokuba grinned back at his mother before giving him a hug. "I'm glad you're going, Mom! I bet the PTA will be surprised to see you!"

'I was worrying about that,' Yami thought as he barely tried to hide his anxiety through his thin-lipped smile. He almost let out an audible gasp when Seto placed a hand on his shoulder. His blue eyes gazed at him deeply, even adding all the more to Yami's surprise.

The little Kaiba stared at the pair. "Are you going too, Daddy?" he asked.

"I'm afraid I can't," his father answered. "I still have some things to sort out."

Mokuba's face faltered for a second before returning a big smile. "Then I hope you have a great day at the office, Dad!"

"Oh my, is that the time?" Yami exclaimed as he took a peek at his watch. He turned to Seto. "Dear, I should be off now. Traffic in Downtown can kill me – must not take any chances." As he was reaching for the car, the businessman got ahead of him and opened the car door.

"Maybe _I _should drive," he said.

Yami's red eyes widened before he was able to say something. "You have work, dear. The office is much farther than Mokuba's school –"

"So naturally it's along the way," Seto cut off, easing the car keys from Yami. "There's still plenty of time." He motioned to his son. "Get in the car, Mokuba. We're not taking the limo."

"Wow! That's great!" Mokuba let out a whoop of delight. He bounded happily for the backseat.

Once out of earshot, Yami leaned to Seto and hissed, "What are you doing?"

"I'm going to drop you at Mokuba's school, isn't that a tad too obvious?"

"So what happened to 'I-have-other-things-to-tend-to' excuse?"

"Mutou, I am not going to that PTA meeting of yours. I am showing a great deal of chivalry by dropping you off at the school."

Yami's heart skipped a beat. "…Oh…"

Seto cleared his throat. "Now don't read anything into it, Mutou. I'm concerned for my custom car – it's very expensive to build – and I don't want to risk it by placing it under your care."

**.oOo.**

And I thought Kaiba was a good guy once you get to know him. Turns out all he ever cares about are his worldly possessions like this friggin' car. Three weeks in this madness and Kaiba just gets even more unbearable, if that was ever possible.

And I stupidly thought that for one wild moment, he would be concerned about my appearance in that PTA meeting!

…

Just so you know, **I AM NOT JEALOUS.** Especially not over a car Kaiba is raving on.

…

I'll wreck that car when I have the chance.

**.oOo.**

Just as what Yami had expected: Downtown Domino is exceptionally crowded. An international rock band was scheduled to perform that day, as part of their tour of the whole country. A big portion of Downtown was transformed as a makeshift stage for the concert. Already there was a huge group congregating around the main square, clearly clogging up practically everything within its vicinity. The TV stations, kiosks, and various vendors also sprouted like wild mushrooms, making the matters even worse.

As Seto cursed behind the steering wheel, muttering about something like "pathetic humans", Yami stared out of the window at the massive crowd and at the performing rock group; he could not help but heave a wistful sigh. He had always wanted to have a career where his passion truly belonged – singing (1). Not slow, romantic idylls and ballads, but something more soulful than that.

He remembered how he squandered off his savings to start a band of his own with his friends. He admitted: it was a big mistake done in an equally wrong time. But he certainly knew it was that particular time he was happiest: strumming his guitar in Tristan's garage while they experimented with some tunes; Bakura looking confused at the latest notes he has to practice on the keyboard; Joey getting scolded by Mrs. Taylor for hitting the drums too hard; and Tristan bringing in some snacks, his guitar never leaving his side.

"I always wanted to be like that," he said aloud unknowingly. Almost immediately, both Kaibas in the car turned to look at him.

"A musician?" Seto asked, his eyes never leaving the person on the passenger seat.

"Wha?" Yami realized he had spoken aloud.

"You mean 'rock star', Dad," Mokuba corrected, sniggering a bit. He turned to his mother, amused. "You wanted to be one, Mom?"

Yami managed to feign an easy laugh. "Something like that," he said, as he waved his hand nonchalantly, making it appear as if it was of no deal, to prevent his companions from further questions. Then, he added, "But of course, I have you guys now so…"

While Mokuba hugged his mother from the backseat, the rest of Downtown Domino cheered for their rock group's entrance. As the sounds of the opening song blended with the blares of car horns just beyond the town square, Yami had inadvertently looked into Seto's eyes, in which the latter had returned. Their gazes held on for a moment, both of them not knowing exactly why.

**.oOo.**

Mai Valentine had obviously seen better days. By "better days" it meant the front page. Juicy headlines. And certainly, she is on the road to public acclaim for her articles that would blow everyone's minds away, most especially, her editor's. More than five years of producing quality results would've made her a shoo-in for something big. Like replacing her good-for-nothing editor, for instance. Or maybe something better: land herself a place in a TV segment she's been dying to have since day one.

But instead she's stuck on cold cases. With stakeout duty, no less. Anyone assigned to investigate cold cases AND placed in stakeout duty at the same time is bound to pack their belongings or the company incinerates them without warning, or so a private joke in the office once said.

And Mai could only endure being the butt of everyone's jokes for as long as her patience can hold.

"So Valentine, what's the scoop?" was the usual morning greeting.

"I hope you got some hot leads. The future of Domino rests in your manicured hands!"

"Shut up, Jeff. You couldn't even string two sentences together, let alone a cohesive article."

The jokes would be all over the office that she eventually felt immune to all insults. All it takes are two simple things: an i-Pod and a dirty finger ready to fire away.

By profession, she prided herself for being an "investigative journalist". But everyone knew that was just a euphemism for a gossip columnist in the magazine _Domino Scoop_. She had the knack of sniffing out information from practically anywhere. Any casual tidbit can be turned into the biggest, shadiest scandal if she chose to. Back in her glory days, Mai was used to being showered with kudos from everyone, even calling her a "grave robber" for stealing secrets most people would bring to their graves.

Her award-winning scoop? Seto Kaiba.

The successful heir to a business empire was exposed of his relationship with a social worker at an orphanage. It surprised the world in a lot of ways: that Domino's legitimate bachelor fell in love with someone lower than his place in the social ladder; it was not exactly what everyone had hoped for a celebrity like him. While many found it romantic, at times bordering on fairy tale-like semblance, a greater portion of Domino's elite saw it utterly revolting. For many of them – billboard models, actresses, teenage heartthrobs – chased Seto in the hopes winning his heart.

Still, it didn't stop the popularity, notoriety and the controversy of this whole relationship. When news came of Gozaburo Kaiba condemning his son's association with a nobody, the whole of Domino instantly became obsessed with the whole scandal overnight. The press just loved invading everyone else's privacy, and they did their job so damn well; there was not a day without a picture of Seto grazing tabloids, magazines, and even broadsheets. Needless to say, he was the talk of the town.

Mai had to admit: it was an accident when she discovered all of this. And it was a very fortunate accident at that. She was enjoying a cup of espresso in an obscure café when an unusual couple walked in. If there was something Mai learned from her training, it had to be this: a person wearing tinted glasses always has something to hide. And it proved to be true; for Mai almost screamed when she recognized who the man was.

A couple of well-placed photos sparked a national phenomenon that lasted for years on end. The public practically had access to the lives of Seto Kaiba and his bride. Suddenly everyone became a stalker. It had gone so extreme, that on one fine day the Kaibas' legal counsel gave away so many Temporary Restraining Orders that many photographers lost their respective jobs on the spot. Not to mention countless lawsuits and libel cases filed against editors and writers. Eventually many critics dubbed Seto Kaiba an "untouchable". If anything, this made him more famous than ever.

Just when Mai thought she's headed for greener pastures, the business tycoon suddenly fell silent. It was as if he died without telling anyone where he was buried. Of course, the young CEO was pretty much alive, but was obviously maintaining a low profile, one so low it didn't register on a gossiper's radar. At first the press remained vigilant, still trailing him wherever he went, but after months (that eventually led to _years_) of dull activity, board meetings, signing off partnerships with major companies, they eventually lost interest. A final headline entitled "Billionaire Seto Kaiba disappears from public eye" marked the end of an era. Mai's bread and butter, her ticket to popularity, suddenly went stale.

It was all too depressing for the blonde journalist. It was precisely her meal ticket that landed her into this boring stakeout. She remembered her conversation with her editor all too well.

"You want me to _what_?" Mai could not help slamming her hands on the rich mahogany desk, unsettling some cigarette entrails from the overflowing ashtray.

"Sniff him out, Valentine." Her editor was brief as always, taking time to enjoy his cigarette. "You're the only Kaiba specialist that didn't get sued by his lawyers. Give it a whirl."

"For Christ's sake, Ed! That guy's silent as a grave!" She winced a little, knowing that calling her editor by his first name (which is – ironically – Ed) was a big pet peeve. "Either he's got nothing new on him –"

"Or he's hiding it very damn well," Ed finished for him.

"Yes, because he doesn't want it to be found, that's what!" Mai could argue with him all day, but she knew it was a lost cause.

"A challenge for the grave robber," he added, just so he could boost the other's ego. Or mock her most likely. "You do miss the good ol' days, so what better way to bring your luster back?"

"Ed, you fucking bastard," Mai hissed; Ed knew very well of her frustrations, and he never hesitated to use it against her. "And don't you call me by that name." She turned to leave.

"Primetime slot in Domino TV, baby," he said, releasing a puff of smoke with a relish. "Call me Ed again and I'll fire you."

Mai flicked her blond tresses dramatically. "I think you're disposing of me, come to think of it…" She pretended to be in deep thought. "A cold case and stakeout duty sounded like a pretty big giveaway, don't you think so, Eddie boy?"

She dodged a lit cigarette easily as she left.

A month later, and no great progress whatsoever. Whatever the CEO had been up to all these years, it was never revealed to anyone. She tried every place Seto always frequented, but all she ever unearthed were countless business meetings and a quiet lunch from time to time. Mai could not even get near her target, especially not when a dozen bodyguards hovered about to protect their employer. Frustrated, she looked to other places where she could find valuable data. This eventually led her to none other than Seto's son.

Mokuba Kaiba's school was just as heavily guarded by many bodyguards as Mai expected. 'I'm not really interested with the kid; but we never know if something interesting is bound to happen,' she thought.

"So how about it, Mai? Aren't you gonna go out with me one of these days?"

Mai rolled her eyes. "If it's not my editor bugging me, it's you," she said, exasperated. Her editor, pissed off with her incessant name-calling, sent Kidth as revenge. If anything, "Bandit" Keith is one of Domino Scoop's most resourceful photographers. Or maybe, perhaps the only one. His "resourcefulness" for getting pictures include many talents: free-climbing windows, hanging off of trees, hiding in dumpsters, planting electronic bugs… thus earning him his title. His name never did appear in any of the publications nor video clips to avoid the Kaiba family's lawyers, but his solid reputation was vastly known among media circles. His anonymity made him an instant and indispensable asset for _Domino Scoop_.

Keith looked very much like a scraggly bandit: from his dirty blond hair, sneering grin, a day's worth of stubble growing in his chin, and down to his rugged attire. And much like any bandit, Keith also has a flair for the romantic – or so he thinks. Ever since he was assigned to accompany Mai in stakeout duty, he never stopped asking the lady for a date; and he was always rejected every single time. Of course, that never stopped him from being persistent.

He looked fondly at his reflection in the side mirror, stroking his chin gently. "Looking good in there, dude," he said to his reflection, who seemed to be just as pleased.

Mai could only shrug half-heartedly; this whole routine was getting old anyway. Yet she found satisfaction in deflating the photographer's bloated ego. In fact, she felt she was doing a big favor to the rest of humanity. "Growing hair on your chin does not make you God's gift to women," she said, and then added, "And like I always say, I already have a boyfriend, so hands off."

Keith eased out his sunglasses from his vest. "And like I always say, Mai darling: nothing good ever comes out from loving a dog." He snickered at his own joke. He had seen Mai's boyfriend a number of times already. "A puny guy, if I say so myself. And here I thought you have refined taste."

"Watch it." Mai held up a threatening finger before he could further insult Joey. "So what is it to you if I like younger men? At least Joey is a gentleman, unlike scum like you."

"Oh Mai, you are breaking my heart," Keith said in a mournful voice, acting upset at what the female journalist said. "Just what did you see in that kid anyway?" At this point, Keith eyed a gorgeous car slow down across them. "I mean, he doesn't even have a spanking car like that!"

Mai's inquisitive eyes stared intently at the unusual car. "I've never seen that before," she thought aloud. 'Strange,' she thought. Expensive custom cars do not just waltz by schools in broad daylight.

"Oh, so it took you long enough to realize that your puppy could not afford a ride?" Keith snorted. "That's a real pity, you know."

But Mai was not listening to him anymore. "Shut up, Keith!" she hissed to silence him. She could not help feel anticipation building in her chest.

Something was about to happen.

**.oOo.**

Yami felt his stomach tightening as the car slowed to a complete stop. Suddenly his insides were wriggling unpleasantly, as if a thousand worms had taken solace in it. He didn't notice that he was gripping the edge of his seat too tight.

"Mommy?"

The Kaiba mistress let out a nervous yelp when he felt Seto's hand land on his shoulder. "We're here," he heard the other say. Yami shook his head in an attempt to release himself from excessive anxiety, but he could not bring himself to stay – or act - composed.

_'I wanna back out,'_ Yami thought, alarm bells ringing endlessly in his mind. He fumbled with his seatbelt, which plainly refused to unlatch.

His expressive red eyes looked very much in distraught, and it did not go unnoticed by Seto. It was obvious that his companion was having difficulty with the whole situation, let alone the seatbelt. Sighing, the CEO got off his seat and out of the car.

Before Yami knew it, the door at his side swung open. Seto held out his hand, which he took gratefully as he hoist himself out of the car. They found themselves facing each other.

"Breathe," Seto urged him. Yami was in no mood – and place – to argue; he was just too shaken to say anything. He closed his eyes and followed what the businessman ordered him to.

"I'll see you later, Mom!" Mokuba called from the car window. Yami managed a wan smile. "You too, Mokuba," he muttered weakly.

"Don't screw up," Seto said in his lowest voice.

"Why thank you for reminding me that, dear, because that's what I might be doing in the meeting!" Yami said in a panicked whisper.

"Don't. You. Dare," Seto said threateningly. He stopped before he could deal any more psychological damage. He realized he was still holding Yami's hand. He gave it a quick squeeze for reassurance. "You'll be fine, Mutou."

Yami looked rather terrified, but he seemed to calm down a bit. "Thanks," he said, still feeling just as grateful that Seto was there to drop him off. He honestly thought that if he were out on his own, he might've chickened out of the PTA meeting and drown himself in the ocean.

And then, suddenly, _unexpectedly_, Seto left a small kiss on Yami's forehead.

Yami could only gape back silently like a goldfish.

Turning away, Seto had muttered hurriedly something like "For luck, I guess."

**.oOo.**

Mai was totally trembling with ecstasy in her chair. Suddenly her future included greener pastures. "Are you getting any of this, Keith?"

Not that he needed any more instructions from Mai, Keith was clicking madly away with his SLR camera.

**.oOo.**

**To Be Continued**

**Footnotes: (1) Singing – **not exactly what one expects from a duelist like Yami, but I thought he'd look really hot if he were a rock star. He looks the part though XD

Trivia that you probably know already: Yami's voice actor (seiyuu) in the YGO original Japanese release is _Kazama Shunsuke_, who happens to be a famous singer/J-rock artist, so I guess it's singing for Yami's alternate career, when he's not busy kicking Seto's ass in duels. XDD

**Author's Notes**: Overwhelming feedback:glomps everyone again: Thanks so much! And because has a spanky reply feature, I can pretty much answer your reviews without having to write them all on every chapter! XD (Yeah, I've been so much out of the loop that I noticed the new features quite recently T.T)

And now I leave another question for you to ponder and answer: **Do you like the Domino media/press?** Now that Mai has found a new scoop, she will make use of it to further her career, at the expense of Seto and Yami's exposure to public scrutiny. Give me your answer/ forecast in the form of a **REVIEW! **:eats more reviews: XDD

Thanks for reading!

**Aoi Rakuen (Blue Paradise)**


	12. Midnight Snack

**Mother Figure by Aoi Rakuen**

Yu-Gi-Oh is a legal property of Kazuki Takahashi, and other big names. It's not mine. Don't sue me.

Some words of caution, though: If you're a yaoi-hater and not so keen on Prideshipping, this story isn't for you. I am an S/YY fan all the way, and personally, they're a pairing that makes a whole lot of sense when you read anything on the series and manga, wrath of the gods be damned.

**SUMMARY**: YGO AU FIC. What if you're paid to be the mother of a billionaire's son? But what if you're a MAN? Yami goes through this life-changing situation when he strikes a deal with CEO Seto Kaiba. Read and Review! XD

**.oOo.**

**Chapter 12: Midnight** **Snack**

Suddenly the air was buzzing with whispers. 

Yami regretted having to sign the attendance sheet. Since he didn't think of any name to go with himself (because he couldn't possibly write 'Yami Mutou' even if he wanted to, given the circumstances), he simply signed, "for Mokuba Kaiba". No one really paid attention to him at first, which was all what he wanted. But the attendance sheet was inevitable.

And now, he had to endure everyone looking, albeit openly, pointing at him directly as he walked to the back of the conference hall, hoping to dig a hole and die.

"Mokuba's mother…?"

"She does look a bit like him…"

"Isn't she a bit taller? The photos I've seen looked different."

"But it's been so long ago…"

Yami heard many snatches of conversation around him; he had to swoop down on his purse to feign indifference while attempting to look for an escape route hiding inside one of its pockets, his ears hot with embarrassment.

The murmurs died down considerably when the speakers were introduced. However, it was a respite too short-lived; pretty soon, many of the parents were turning around to where he sat to point and stare.

Admittedly, Yami, who was focusing all his attention at the speaker, barely understood anything. He punched a hurried message to Asano to pick him up,_pretty please_, before any of the guests can even follow him.

By the time the PTA meeting was resolved, everyone knew about presence of the mysterious woman attending on behalf of Seto Kaiba. The person in question, on the other hand, lost no time and practically ran for the exit (high heels and all) and was already first at the school gate, where the dutiful Asano immediately motioned for him.

The limousine stalked out of sight, long before any of the rumor-mongers disguised as parents and teachers could follow him.

Inside an unobtrusive station wagon, however, Keith was watching through his lens which recorded every frame of his prey's movement.

**.oOo.**

Mai walked purposefully into the office; her shoes clicked against the tiles, sending echoes throughout the office. People abandoned their posts to stare at her; each of them craning their necks and tweaking their ears for anything waiting to happen.

Here was a glorified entrance, some of them thought. Something was definitely afoot: Mai wouldn't strut like a runway model if she didn't have anything to strut about. Heck, they wouldn't be into the gossip business if they can't live up to the kind of things that happened in their small, claustrophia-inducing office, at the very least.

Mai could only flip her hair for an added effect; her all-knowing smirk was reminiscent of the days when she uncovered the gossip that started it all. She chuckled appreciatively, not bothering to keep it to herself. 'That'll show these bottom-dwellers,' she thought happily.

Without even stopping to knock, she pushed herself into Ed's office, in which the editor in question was currently on the phone, oblivious to all the hubbub around him.

"Yes I know, Mother, your little boy wants to go there and see you…" The editor's voice was – uncharacteristically – cooing. Mai had to do a double take; she might've stepped into some parallel world where editors are mama's boys.

Ed looked up momentarily at Mai, glared malevolently, and tried to shoo her away with an irritated wave of his hand. Feeling very cocky, Mai chose to ignore his superior's orders and began to tap her foot loudly just to irritate him.

Mai bit back an indulgent laugh. She was in a world where editors _are_ actually mother's boys. Indeed, today was her lucky day.

'Tap, tap, tap…' on and on the continuous tapping finally did not go unheard in Ed's ears, which were now tinged pink with agitation. Summoning the sweetest voice he could muster, he said to his mother, "I'll put you on hold one minute, Ma, I just need to – no, it won't take long, I promise!"

As soon as Mai heard the hold button being pushed rather angrily, Ed's voice filled the office. "THIS HAD BETTER BE WORTH MY FUCKING ATTENTION, VALENTINE, BECAUSE I'M – "

And Mai unceremoniously – purposefully – threw the photos right at her editor's face. What better way to tempt fate and the unprecedented thinness of Ed's patience? The photographs scattered around him like confetti.

"THAT'S IT MAI, YOU'RE –"

But his voice quickly died in his throat; his eyes drifted to the photos strewn on the floor. He knelt on the floor and picked one, tentatively, not knowing if he was just stuck in a parallel, make-believe world where Seto Kaiba is out of his hiding hole, planting a chaste kiss on a woman's forehead…

"Th-this is…" he stammered, something he hasn't done ever since he was with his mother.

Mai felt like she was hovering above him, amused at the way things were working her way. She took in the scene – a national sensation in the making, and most of all, her editor kneeling in front of her, worshipping her like the goddess that she is.

Out of the corner of her eye, the blinking red light of the hold button still pulsed. "Oh Ed, your mother's still on hold."

Not surprisingly, Ed wasn't really giving a shit about his mother at the moment.

**.oOo.**

I was starting to regret attending that PTA meeting.

Of course I knew about the scope of how the nation is obsessed with Kaiba and the inner trappings of his life. Months (Centuries) spent (wasted) listening (zoning out) to Tea gushing on the rumors, the characters, and the tragedy surrounding Kaiba's surprisingly inane life (Trust me, I know so; you should hear him muttering about his spreadsheets one day) should tell me what was in store for me.

But I thought the whole business had already died down; I thought nobody doesn't give a damn about it anymore.

Apparently I was gravely mistaken. Maybe I should've just heeded Kaiba's warnings.

But as I got home, Mokuba bounded for me, thanking me for my efforts. And as he hugged me, somehow, it made everything seem worth the risk.

For now, I guess that's all that matters.

At least nobody saw Kaiba kissing my forehead, right?

**.oOo.**

Seto had it coming.

He had taken note of it. Several times in fact. It all fell under his cool, calculating logic that certain events will lead to…well, more events.

When his new "wife" assumed control in the Kaiba household, he was more than happy to give that happy power, just so he could humor him. Then, against his will, his wife fired all of Mokuba's tutors, insisting some "tried-and tested" motherly approach to teaching. Seto acquiesced – rather forcibly – just so they could stop bickering about it; he didn't want to risk severe headaches. Needless to say, his son's morale picked up, and he was performing better in school. At least someone's improving.

Then his wife took it upon himself to be a "responsible" and "cooperative" parent by showing up at Mokuba's PTA meeting. While it exposed him to the outside world – a matter of significant importance – somehow, no one seemed to be taking any interest in him, despite how long his legs are. Still, Seto gave in, even though sheer doubt and fear of discovery were written all over his face.

And precisely what the smart businessman had predicted, his wife had gone one step further again. Oddly enough, it was the most unthinkable idea ever.

"YOU FIRED THE HEAD CHEF?!" Seto bellowed, the anger of his deep voice barely controlled.

Yami, who was reading a magazine, didn't seem to be bothered at his roommate's outburst. 'Trust him to overreact on just about anything,' he thought. "It was more like an indefinite leave of absence. Said he wanted to visit some far-off relatives in the countryside. So I gave it to him."

Seto was clenching his fists, fighting the urge to have someone executed. "I didn't ask you to fire anyone at random, least of all the head chef! What the hell are you thinking, Mutou?!"

Yami gazed levelly at Seto, who was briefly surprised at how fiery his companion's eyes were. The fact that it was framed with black eyeshadow didn't help matters.

"Because from now on, I'm doing the cooking around here. Can't have a certified gourmet chef cramping my style, now can I?"

**.oOo.**

In case anyone's wondering, I'm an excellent learner. I did not immerse myself in the kitchen just so I could get the smell of exhaust cling onto my clothes. And being an eager student, I certainly lived up to it, until I was declared by the head chef his protégé, as well as a genius. Now there's a talent I would like to test.

At the opportune moment, I advised him to get some R and R in his hometown.

"Madame, as much as I find your offer very tempting, I can't take it," he said.

My eyebrows went up. "Why not? You needed the break, and I'm giving it to you. I'll be in charge of the kitchen from here on."

"I'm sorry to say this, but my charge will never eat anything unless I prepared it. It's been that way for more than two decades."

Blargh, tradition. Who gives a shit. Sometimes, I still find myself amazed at Kaiba's assed-up attitudes. I shrugged. "I don't care. Kaiba will just have to eat whatever I prepare."

My teacher gave me a half-defeated, half-amused look. "I'm saying it's not going to be easy, missy."

"Well I'll do whatever it takes to make him eat, even if I have to tie him up and serve crème brulee on his –"

Words failed me up to that point. The chef gave a very loud chuckle at this.

"I admire your determination, Madame! Now remember this: if you know what makes a man's mouth water, you're halfway up his leg." He wiggled his eyebrows for effect.

"You mean 'if you know what makes a woman laugh'," I corrected him, the conventional quote in mind.

He chuckled again. "That wasn't what I meant, Mistress Kaiba." He winked knowingly, gave a final bow, and went on his way.

Strange fellow.

**.oOo.**

"Send this to headlines. Front page. Put every frame of photo Bandit captured if you have to. I want this in by tonight. And print triple than the usual." Ed's instructions went on and on. Mai frowned at this, because she had envisioned a different scenario which she wanted done, and her motor mouth of an editor won't stop her from getting it. What his boss lacked was the style, and the most effective strategy to pull it off to put other competitors to shame. 'And put me in the center again,' she added as an afterthought, the glow of the limelight an irresistible tug that should not be resisted.

She cleared her throat "Boss, believe me, a shocking news is what we all need," she carefully selected her next words, "but wouldn't it be great if we stump the competition early on?"

Ed snorted. "Stump the competition?" he cried in disbelief. "What the hell do you think I'm suggesting earlier on, Valentine? I want this out at once before any of our neighbors start sniffing out something!" And by "neighbors", he wasn't only referring to rival companies. He sent a wary glance outside his office, flimsily covered by Venetian blinds, where beyond it, dozens of writers and columnists could be a possible threat to him, one way or the other. Apparently, Ed wasn't much of a trusting person than he is an excellent editor.

"Hear me out here, Ed. If we publish at once, sure we could rake in the dough in the first week." Mai stressed out a critical point. "_But everyone else will follow suit_. After that, we would have to drop prices just to earn pennies."

A vein pulsed in Ed's temple, but he didn't react violently. Mai knew her editor had to see some sense, to stop him from blindly rushing onwards like a crazed bull. Getting the scoop first is great, but reinforcing it through a series of follow-throughs would galvanize their reputation. What they need is more material while no one is still looking, _fast_. Because once the whole thing blows over, Seto Kaiba will have to retreat back to the shadows and start suing anyone who sees him from a ten-mile radius. More material entailed more stocks to sell at ridiculously-high prices to rivals out to partake in their success. But the source will always remain a source, especially in times of great press famine.

But first, they needed to start stirring the pot. "We need to serve them appetizer," Mai said. Blind items have a dual purpose: to mystify readers, and best of all, to foreshadow forthcoming happenings. This is done to stake claim that they found it out _first_; nowadays, no one bothers with runners-up. That way, when everyone starts asking, they could just point out simply: "We wrote it last week, didn't you see?"

This plan tested Ed's patience, which was unsurprisingly short, but against making money, which was high on his priority list (probably higher than his mother), he would have to reconsider. Mai was relieved that her boss was getting the drift. "Run a teaser in one of our insignificant little publication," he said, before turning his back at Mai. An off-the-radar teaser would quirk little interest, which was more than enough at the moment.

Mai had to smile. "Best suggestion you've had all day."

**.oOo.**

'_Tap tap tap'_… Seto was absent-mindedly tapping at his laptop while he gazed outside the city skyline through his windows. He had just finished looking through the interim sales reports, and was momentarily pleased to know that he was still earning money (lots of it), and would continue to do so for the next thirty-odd years, according to his calculations.

He adjusted his glasses, and went back to look at his laptop. He was surprised to see that he had typed 'My wife is a nagger' unknowingly. He had written a page's worth of it, much like a child writing lines during detention.

"Not surprising," he muttered. After Yami had fired his chief cook to take his place, he had become so adamant in making Seto eat that he had to endure and sleep through the long sermons, earning him a marvelous headache the next day, in which another bout of lectures would ensue, just to spite him. He could almost imagine Yami now: hands on his hips, voice barely containing his impatience, threatening him to eat something or else. In a twisted sense, what he had typed was merely an understatement.

Seto stared at it intently for a few seconds, reprimanding himself. "He's not my wife," he said to no one in particular, before he deleted the whole document. He closed the lid of his laptop, and was taken aback to realize at how the room had gone eerily silent. Then again, his office has always been silent.

Somehow, the quiet that had permeated around his office seemed uncomfortable.

**.oOo.**

Seto woke up early today, woken up by the nightmare that somehow involved Yami with a shovel, literally shoving him mounds of egg tart. Grumbling, he ambled silently towards the bathroom, careful not to make any noise to wake his roommate. The earlier he could leave the house for work, the better; he didn't want to hear any more of Yami's sickeningly-sweet imitation of a girl's voice telling him to eat or, as Yami hissed into his ear yesterday, "_I will shove it all up your posterior!"_ while his son wasn't looking.

After seconds of fumbling with his tie, Seto was already out of the main door, sprinting out of his lawn, not bothering to cross the cobbled driveway. The sun was still pale in the hazy dew of dawn, just a little glimmer in the horizon. He flipped open his phone and called for his limousine. He risked a peek upwards, to where his room was, relieved to see that the lights were still off, and its occupant still sound asleep.

"It's still early?" hissed Seto into the receiver, incredulous at his employee's impertinence. "I can go to my office whenever I want to. So get the car in here NOW before I decide your early termination!"

'_Click'_. Seto shut his phone, irritated. He paced around back and forth, looking warily at his watch and at the balcony above him alternately. The sense of urgency was almost unnerving him.

After an agonizing minute of waiting, the black limousine slinked by the iron gate. His bodyguards were already standing by outside, looking somewhat disheveled and disoriented. Seto lost no time and quickened his pace.

He was almost running now, not hesitating to stop. 'I should do something about the long driveway,' he thought, making a mental note to call the appropriate people to do something about it. Seto was jotting down so many mental notes that he only reacted a second too late when he saw something from the corner of his eye…

…who threw a bucket of water directly at him.

"AARRGGGHHH!" The icy cold water crept past his office clothes, sending unwanted chills down his spine. However, it only lasted for a second – his temper was shooting to its boiling point.

"MUTOU---" Seto wheeled at him, his finger already brandished, but he was instantly doused by another splash, leaving him spluttering for air.

Yami had a serene look deliberately plastered on his face. "You have to eat breakfast first before you leave for the office, dear."

**.oOo.**

Seto was moving stealthily across the hallway. He wasn't initially aware of its existence before (even after living in this mansion his all life), but he was thankful now that the carpet was muffling his steps. He rounded on a corner and suppressed a groan.

His stomach gurgled.

He cursed under his breath. 'Mutou and his insane ideas,' he thought bitterly. In response to boycotting anything Yami cooks, the latter decided to not give him any altogether. Seto was unfazed by the idea at first, as he had several back-up plans up his sleeves.

Much to his disbelief, he was appalled to find out that his chief cook disappeared entirely from the face of the earth. How Yami was able to pull it off, he could only wonder.

After briefly reprimanding (and firing) the investigator he hired to find him, Seto was forced to live on a coffee, tea, crackers, and sugar mints for the time being. One way or the other, his pretend-wife will have to fold over the likes of him.

It didn't help that he had to be present during dinner to watch Yami and his son eating, while he grudgingly took a sip of water. His pride was too much bloated to concede, after all.

But a few days later, he found himself unconsciously waking up in the dead of the night, woken by his angry, complaining stomach. He didn't mind it at first, preferring to sleep it through, but on the third day of forceful hunger strike, he couldn't take it anymore.

His feet found the kitchen, dark and silent, save for a few spots illuminated by moonlight. At the very least he didn't have to turn on the lights. He inched towards the refrigerator, an eager hand outstretched. Whatever contents the fridge holds, he couldn't care less; beggars can't be choosers, after all.

Yellow light poured out as he squinted through the interior, his eyes momentarily stunned by the sudden flow of light. Some chicken strips, mayonnaise, bologna, eggs, bacon… Seto stood silently, wondering what kind of sandwich he could make quick before he dies of starvation.

"I could fix you a sandwich, really, dear," came a voice behind him. Seto almost dropped the jar of mayonnaise in alarm.

**.oOo**.

"Well, yeah, the point is that your ego," said Yami between mouthfuls of tuna and mayonnaise, "is screwing with you. Big time."

Seto glared at him from the brim of his glass filled with apple juice.

"I mean, you could've at least admitted you're hungry, rather than strutting around being a pain in the ass." Yami was digging at the coleslaw with his spoon. "Save me and the rest of us some trouble you've been causing."

He simply glowered in reply. There was simply nothing to be done about him being caught by Yami, but simply stare at his opponent in the hopes of scaring him. It wasn't likely to happen, but at least Seto was eating something.

Yami fixed him a cool stare. It was then he noticed that a bit of stray mayonnaise was at the edge of Seto's mouth. He felt all spite leaving him; Seto looked younger than his years, his blue eyes soft against the harsh fluorescent light hovering above them. Sighing, he whispered, "Come closer".

Puzzled, Seto inched closer. "What?" he asked.

"There's something…" Yami's voice trailed off, and his hand brushed Seto's cheek slightly. He felt his thumb swept past his lips, light and fleeting. The brunet stiffened, partially paralyzed, unsure of what to do.

One of the many unsettling silences lingered among them.

"Look, you've got mayonnaise on you," Yami said, showing his thumb at him. Acting on instinct, he licked it off his thumb. Seto was at a loss for words, and was wondering whether he should feel insulted, embarrassed, or both. Needless to say, more unsettling silence filled the air.

In an attempt to rectify his mistake, Yami suddenly got up and started fishing out more vegetables and dressings from the fridge, anything he could get his hands on. "Now how about some salad?"

**.oOo.**

The midnight snacks were increasingly becoming a regular affair for both Yami and Seto. Even though Yami was already complaining about how he was going to fit in his clothes and Seto was growing impatient to get back to his work at once, they still go about preparing chips, sandwiches, among many edible things.

While Yami was figuring out whether he should use whole wheat bread or white bread (or perhaps foccacia?), he listened to Seto droning on about company policies, merger agreements, and pretty much stressful (and to Yami, boring) details about being a CEO of a huge company.

And while Seto chewed his sandwich, trying to figure out its contents, he listened to Yami describing many of the things around the Kaiba mansion – ones that fascinated him (like the garage) and ones that spooked him out (like the library).

Though they listened to each other, that really didn't stop from them arguing all the same.

"So give your employees higher wages!"

"My profit will plummet down ten percent if I do that!"

"So? What's a measly ten percent in the grand scheme of things? Stop being a selfish bastard!"

"That's twenty million dollars per annum at the very least, and that won't stop them for asking more! Are you mentally inept or something?"

Or…

"Why do you even bother looking at my library anyway?"

"The question is, do you even know you have a library?"

"Of course. What do you take me for, an idiot?"

"Yes."

News of the clandestine after-dinner snacks spread like wildfire among the employees of the Kaiba mansion. Even Seto's bodyguards – known especially for their acute indifference to rumors - were actually amused at the interesting situation at hand.

If anything, the head chef was very surprised.

"Looks like I win the bet," Yami said, very much pleased with himself, imagining his teacher's incredulous face from the other line. He had to call when Seto was nowhere in sight, because apparently, the latter still couldn't find his head chef anywhere.

"What have you done to Master Seto, Madame? This is totally unexpected!"

Yami wanted to answer something along the lines of underhanded tactics bordering on torture, starvation, and – implicitly – death, but thought against it. "If you're wondering about serving crème brulee, I didn't go that far, if that's what you wanted to ask."

The chef chuckled. "Then I guess I lost the bet then."

"Congratulations are in order."

"Thank you very much, Madame," came an unexpected reply.

Yami snorted. "Oh, you don't need to thank me. Seriously. I did everyone a favor by kicking his pompous –"

"Master Seto might be able to move on, with your help, Madame. I sincerely thank you for that." Yami was surprised that the chef's voice had turned oddly hushed and reserved, as if he was holding more back.

But before Yami could even ask any further, the cheery demeanor of the cook took over once more. "Well then, I guess I'll still be enjoying my well-earned vacation here, young missy. I guess my charge won't mind, since you're around. Cheerio!"

And the line went dead.

Yami's curiosity was more alive than ever though.

**.oOo.**

The diner was always the hub of activity among the general population in Domino, when most of them couldn't stand fancy restaurants and would much rather prefer a cup of brewed coffee instead. The Salt Shaker was a particularly famous and busy joint. There was never a dull moment in that place, and that seats were always occupied at any time of the day was a sure sign it was a good spot to eat chili or nurse a mug of ice-cold beer.

Having the aforementioned beer was what Joey had in mind now. That is, after he finishes clearing tables with leftover pasta, or mopping spilled ale. Working part-time was a sure bitch for him, but it brings food to the table, and it usually keeps his girlfriend happy.

And speaking of his girlfriend…

'She's particularly happy lately,' he mused, as he continued to plow his soggy mop across the floor. Usually, when Mai was in a foul mood, she would splurge on many things – anything she could lay her hands on – which was a bad sign for Joey's wallet. Three days ago, however, Mai simply wanted a massage. Which Joey dutifully gave, of course.

"Oi Wheeler, you're supposed to keep the floor clean, not soaking wet!" Marietta, one of the waitresses passed by, wiping off that silly smile of his face.

"Oh, right…" Joey resumed, glaring at the floor which somehow managed to look like a small stream. It was almost closing time, and there were still a few stragglers out to have a late dinner.

He passed by two middle-aged women poring over a magazine, discussing among themselves animatedly. Joey snorted; if he wanted rumors, he might as well go ask Mai for it himself. Then again, he really was just not interested in them altogether. He began to pick up his bucket to work on a new area when he heard one of the women shrieked.

"YOU MEAN IT'S KAIBA?"

There was a unanimous glare aimed at their general direction for a second, before the rest of the diner picked up its own axis. One of the women shushed her companion to keep it down, but Joey was already setting his mop on the floor which he had already cleaned a minute ago.

"Is it really him?"

"'Course it is. Who do you associate with this phrase, ' a powerhouse mogul living life incognito'?"

Skeptical. "It could be Sigfried you know."

"Except von Schroider is a show-off."

Silence. Joey strained his ears hard.

"But, who is this woman?"

"A new girlfriend, that's what. Though no press mileage for the fortunate lady. Remember the time when Kaiba hid his wife? This is a rehash."

"Ooh, and the plot thickens!" one of them exclaimed and they exchanged simpering laughter.

The blond-haired janitor paled considerably. It didn't take Joey long to know the referents of the said blind item.

**To Be Continued**

**.oOo.**

**Author's Note**: Wah, it's been a LOOONG while, and I'm sorry for the uber-delay! Thanks so much for the past chapter reviews!

I've weeded out some weird plot problems. I have reposted an edited version of Chapters 1 to 6 and I hope I carry them out on the next chapters to follow.

On to some random shout-outs: Somebody please give an appropriate name for the Kaiba chef! I have been thinking it out, but no good name comes to mind. D:

For comments, suggestions, and whatnot, send me a review ;p

Thanks for reading!

**Aoi Rakuen **(Blue Paradise)


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